FYI

Dear Followers:

Laura and I got legally hitched yesterday, July 20th. It would have also been my parents' anniversary, their 64th, though I suppose there must be a time when you stop counting such things after someone has died. C.J., the best dog ever, would have turned 32 this year, for example.

We actually got married back in 1999 -- Laura and I, not C.J. and I. C.J. was already dead, but would have been turning 20 in 1999. Laura and I had a fabulous ceremony with song and sunshine and lots of happy brouhaha. We have the certificate signed by friends and family to prove it:

 but the State wouldn't recognize our marriage at the time. We drove away with the three kids and a "just married" sign on the car. People honked at us and waved, and then looked in the car to see two women and three kids waving back. Oh! We loved the double-takes we got.

Now twelve years later, we decided that since Laura is going to be looking for a new job, and probably a fairly schmancy one at that, where it might matter to search committees and such that we be legally married, we should bite the bullet and get the State's seal of approval on our marriage.

So my beloved brother, Lee, who is a Justice of the Peace, ran us through a little ceremony on Saturday. It was come-as-you-are; shorts and t-shirts. Three other people were there -- Ting, her partner Dave, and our niece Emily. We skyped in an assortment of siblings, plus Yani and T'ai. Actually, T'ai was in a Starbucks in New York, listening by phone. We repeated our vows of yesteryear, including Laura's vow to T'ai, Ting, and Yani. Laura spoke toward the phone so that T'ai could hear over the Starbucks din. We took off our rings and put them on again. Ting and Dave sang us a lovely song, and we waved goodbye to everyone who was watching electronically. When we pulled out the paper that Laura had picked up from the town so that Lee could make it official, it turned out that we had the "worksheet," not the license. I think maybe straight couples do not make this mistake. So the ceremony was another close-but-no-cigar event.
Yesterday we picked up the right form after handing in our "worksheet." The town clerk's office had to redo their original version of the license, because they had typed me in as Paul. Paul. I think they felt kind of bad about the Freudian slip, and they were extra nice to us after that.

Lee had to come back to Farmington yesterday to do it all over again. The "ceremony" had to be conducted in Farmington, so we thought of meeting him on the side of the road on the town line to save him a few minutes. He was running late, and I had a client in the waiting room. Hurry! Lee walks into the house and says, "all the stuff you said on Saturday, is it still true?" "Yes! Yes!" "Okay, you're married."
It would cost another twenty bucks to get a copy of the license. No thanks! This receipt is good enough.

But as soon as we cross the state line, we're not married anymore, says our uncle, Sam. If Laura gets a job in New York, we'll have to do the whole thing all over again. The good thing, though, is that the process is getting shorter and shorter. "Stuff you said still true?" "Yes!"
Okay then! Okay.