Kissing on the BLVD during our wedding, in front of Vijay Patel's car. |
So, today we will see Mozart's "Cosi fan tutte," an exploration of romantic love. Two soldiers accept a bet that their fiancees are faithful to them, and each tries to seduce the other's intended. It's fun, frothy, and no one dies, which makes it not one of my favorite. I like tragic opera better.
But it is about love, which I suppose makes it anniversary-appropriate.
Dancing at our Oct. 2, 2010 wedding. |
Miraculously, I found a man who shared my taste for the Shins and Fountains of Wayne. Imagine my shock when Jim said he wanted to give opera a whirl. I warned him that LA Opera was doing Wagner's Ring Cycle, and offered to take him to a less challenging and turgid opera. Maybe he just wanted to spend time with me, I don't know, but he bought a ticket on the same day as ours. He actually had a better seat than ours.
The LA Opera's version of the Ring had none of the elements I love about opera: passion, romance, fabulous costumes and lavish sets. After "Das Rheingold," Lynn said, "Well, there's three hours of my life I'll never get back," and Jim's assessment was "Gawd-awful." But with his customary optimism, he also said "In for a penny, in for a pound," and bought seats for the rest of the cycle.
The front of the Metropolitan Opera with the Boris Godunov banner. |
I don't think couples need to do everything together and be joined at the hip, but you definitely need some common activities. If your spouse is spending every weekend on the golf course, and you don't play, how long before he/she finds someone who does?
My brother, Marc, celebrated his fifth anniversary yesterday with a recommitment ceremony. When he got married, his hobby was racing remote-controlled boats. Those little suckers are expensive, especially when you crash them.
Marc and Susen after saying their vows, hold up Tilly and Tillman Troll, the Harley owner's group mascots. |
The next thing I knew, Marc sold all his racing gear, and put the money down on a Harley-Davidson. I'm not sure he realized it would when he bought it, but the bike became the center of their social life.
They joined the local Harley Owners Group. My brother volunteered as the club photographer, and my sister-in-law, Susen, became active in the Women of Harley. They found new friends, and most every weekend, they had some new activity or ride. It gave them lots of opportunities for togetherness.
So they decided to renew their vows at the Harley Owner's Group end of summer barbecue. Under a gazebo where another group member with grey hair, wearing his Harley leather club vest officiated over their ceremony. The club mascots, Tilly and Tillman Troll, stood in for the best man and maid of honor.
These trolls are like the gnome in the movie "Amelie." Whenever group members go on vacation, they send back photos of the trolls in exotic locations. Marc sent in a photo of the trolls kickin' it in a pool in Mexico.
The bride wore a black Harley-Davidson shirt and the groom a T-shirt printed like a tuxedo. It was very sweet. Not that their first wedding in Las Vegas was particularly formal, but this was completely laid back, and a lot of fun. Susen's kids were there, and my mother, Jim and I represented my brother's family. Susen bought a three-tier chocolate cake with black icing, orange flames climbing up the sides, topped by a toy Harley.
The happy couple drank a toast out of plastic skull goblets, one black and the other orange. (Oh, did I mention the bride is crazy about Halloween?) We had a fabulous tri-tip barbecue with baked beans, corn muffins, potato salad, and macaroni salad. Let's just say I blew all my extra Weight Watcher points for the week, and I still had my own anniversary to go.
On the Music Center Plaza. |
We had a fabulous meal at Pinot with a bottle of champagne, and saw the Mozart fluff. The opera was quite cynical about love and marriage, so perhaps it wasn't the best choice, but at least no one died in it. It was a great day, and I'm hoping for many more anniversaries for us, and Marc and Susen.