The Hancock-Henderson Quill, Inc.
by Sherranne De La Boise
Love's An Unpredictable Thing
Eons ago, my best client wanted me to join his curling club. I hemmed and hawed, as I had rather viciously purloined my aunt and uncle for playing the sport. It became a big part of their social life, with my aunt curling with the ladies, my uncle with some pretty high ranking business and financial leaders, and both of them enjoying traveling to other clubs to curl in competitions (called Bonspeils).
But it was still curling, a winter sport where you go indoors to stand on ice. It plays like shuffle board, the game of board tourists on cruise lines. And then, you sweep that ice.
Thanks to my new dog, I have a house that gets swept every day.
But, my best client persisted, "Who do you know, except through work and your children?" "A lady needs to have friends of all ages that know her outside of Church and Charity."
So, reluctantly, I went to a Corn-speil at the Chicago Curling Club. Being August, the only ice was in a glass. The members feasted on corn and a spit-roasted pig.
My client was late, so I had to bravely enter the club house alone. The very first person I met was Lewis Morgan, President of the CCC.
I felt this incredible energy and magnetism radiating from him. I knew right then: He was going to be a problem. I told him every horrible Sherryanne story I could think of, to make him go away. I just was not going to get involved with yet another old man.
"Yes, she did," my husband will tell you. "She thought she got rid of me, but I was preoccupied with helping my daughter, Alicia, recover from her first of three strokes. I did not have time to ask out the only woman at CCC that I ever felt attracted to."
Time passed. Morgan kept appearing on the same teams as me. He hinted that we should do something socially, but I really wanted a 50 year old version of him.
The problem was that the 50 year olds kept running away. One called his girlfriend three times in the first hour of meeting me to tell her, loudly, how much he loved her. Another, always sat himself on the opposite side of church.
"When I was 50, I would have headed to the other side of the room," confirms my husband. "You would have scared me half to death. But, I'm braver now."
Time passed and Morgan asked me to go for a fancy steak dinner.
"One date and he'll never ask again. Plus, it's steak,' I thought.
I got all dressed up: black St. John dress, heels, perfume, and makeup. He, having come of age in the 1960's, suggested we have an adult beverage at his house before the dinner.
Couples used to do that. They would go over to another couple's house and have their drinks and appetizers before going out to eat. That would keep the bill lower, which meant they could go out more often. Many times, my parents and their friends would end up putting on records and dancing, skipping entirely the dinner out.
"When she walked through my front door in that black St. John dress, that's when I knew: Wow! She's the one: Wow!"
Oh no, I was not going to be mis-directed. I was promised a steak dinner. One drink at his house and then it was off. Brace yourself for the rest of this tale:
Morgan lived with his daughter, who was a level four hoarder. There were only paths from the front door to the 1970's dark decorated kitchen (complete with the vinyl faux red brick flooring).
Jeanne Robertson, the comedienne on YouTube, would say because Morgan was "left brained," he measured the alcohol precisely. No splash and a half. Then, I was given my serving of exactly four Ritz crackers topped with four precisely cut 1" slices of cheddar cheese.
We went in his car. Would it be Morton's? Ruth Chris'? Or, maybe Lawry's of seasoning salt fame?
No, he pulled into the parking lot of Chicago Curling Club. He was taking me to my own club. Worse than that, he was taking me to the Old Boys Annual Steak Dinner with free beer and wine, seating me at a banquet table with 70 year olds and their wives. Everyone decked out in tartan jackets or Christmas sweaters.
If the situation were not so absurd, I think I would have killed him. Instead, I laughed. I should have known this frugal, straight-laced man would think this a perfect first date.
All these years later, yesterday, I came across his wedding vows:
"When I met you, I had no idea of how much my life was about to change. And, certainly for the better.
"I view these vows, as more than promises, but as privileges. For, I willingly take you as you are now and as who you are yet to become.
"I will love you and have faith in your love for me, through all our years. I commit to work with you to foster and cherish a relationship of equality and to grow with you, knowing that together we will build a life far better than either of us alone could achieve.
"You make me happier than I could ever imagine and more loved that I ever thought possible.
"Because of you, I laugh, smile and I dare to dream again.
"I know that I am marrying the right partner, and I vow to be the right partner in return.
"I will encourage you, trust you and respect you.
"I promise to listen to you with compassion and understanding, even when we disagree, learn from you, support and care for you as you strive to achieve your goals.
"Together, we will build a home filled with learning, laughter, light and honor, shared freely with all who may dwell there.
"I vow to keep updating my vows, because one set of vows cannot possibly cover a lifetime of growing, and changing with you and falling more and more in love with you.
"My commitment to you is absolute. Let us be partners, friends and lovers, today and all of the days that follow."
Pretty good for a left brained man.