If I had a million dollars

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When Jim and I were first married, we were pretty darn broke. We stayed home nearly every Friday and Saturday night, playing backgammon and gin rummy and dreaming of better days to come.

"If we had all the money in the world," I'd ask, just to break up the monotony of me him winning all the time, "what would you want to be doing right now?"

His response and our discussion to follow usually went far beyond what we'd be doing that night if we had money, evolving into how we'd spend the entire stash if we won the lottery: fancy dining experiences, fast cars, hip clothes, trips to exciting/interesting/exotic places, attending concerts across the country of our favorite bands.

Fast forward 28 years.

While we no longer stay home every Friday and Saturday night, we do still talk often about what we'd do if we won the lottery. And those conversations are where we really show our age.

Here's the list of things Jim and I are adamant about doing if when we win the lottery, in order of priority:

  • Tithe

  • Pay off our gargantuan PLUS loan we took out for the girls to get the educations we didn't.

  • Pay off our gargantuan house loan.

  • Support our moms.

  • Pay for lots of things for the girls (cars, homes, etc.).

  • Hire a weekly housekeeper -- who, at Jim's request, would do the windows every other week.

  • Dole out one-time cash gifts to our siblings plus a few nieces and nephews.

  • Buy the house next door and totally raze it, allowing us to have back our view of Pikes Peak and making way for the most awesome play area for the grandkids.

  • Put a 10-foot fence around our property.

  • Buy a cabin in Flagstaff.

  • Visit the Pacific Northwest ... often.

I'm sure we'd do a little clothes shopping, a lot of book shopping, a little dining out and add trips to NYC, DC and Bruges. But on our current list there's nary a mention of fancy cars, fancy clothes, wild and exotic trips.

Nope, the majority of our plans for the load of cash revolves around making life a little more comfortable on the homefront and for our family. We're getting old, it seems, and relaxing at home and knowing our family is safe and financially sound is really all we're looking for at this point.

Although ... those concerts mentioned years ago ... we'd still shell out bucks to catch concerts across the country. We're not that old yet!

Today's question:

If you were to win the lottery (regardless of whether you buy tickets or not), what is the very first thing you would buy once you claimed your prize?

My answer: Dinner at a NON-fancy restaurant after picking up the check at the lottery office. We're not fancy restaurant kind of people; a modest restaurant that serves excellent steaks and even better lemon-drop martinis would be our ideal celebration spot.

Tube talk

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Jim and I recently started watching the new television series Parenthood, the one by Ron Howard et al., based on the old(er) movie of the same name.

We like it so far. Which doesn't bode well for the show. It'll likely be canceled now that I've given it my stamp of approval.

For whatever reason, Jim and I have never been big TV watchers and -- despite a few attempts -- we never seem to home in on the shows that seem to be most popular with all the other TV watchers in the country. We don't watch the CSI or Law and Order shows. We definitely don't watch reality shows. And, much to the surprise of a few friends, we've never seen an entire episode of The Simpsons.

During our early years of marriage, our favorite shows were Soap, Quantum Leap, St. Elsewhere and MASH reruns. We grew to love Beauty and the Beast and Fame, as well as -- when we could afford cable -- The Hitchhiker and It's the Garry Shandling Show (just typing that one made me smile).

Then the 90s came and we were too busy to watch TV ... or the girls commandeered the only television set we had and Jim and I joined them for precious few shows. (We were willing to sit through Buffy the Vampire Slayer; not so much Saved by the Bell or, later, Dawson's Creek.) When we did watch on our own, it was usually 20/20, 48 Hours, Dateline or some other news show that kept us constantly worried about the safety of our children.

As the girls got older and ownership of the TV returned to us, Jim and I started watching more and more on the tube. Here are a few we watched regularly in the last, say, five years:

  • Six Feet Under (HBO)

  • Rome (HBO) -- Jim

  • 24 -- Jim

  • Felicity -- me

  • Gilmore Girls

  • Medium (although her waking-up-in-a-gasp schtick has grown tiresome and we no longer watch)

  • Brothers & Sisters (the silly drama has grown tiresome and we're about done)

  • Grey's Anatomy (ditto)

  • Men of a Certain Age

  • True Blood (we'll be watching this upcoming season at Brianna's, as we've canceled HBO)

  • Glee (!)

  • Ghost Hunters (thanks, Tammy!)

But here's the kicker. Here are our favorites of the past few years, favorites that apparently very few others favored because they were lured away by Biggest Loser, American Idol, So You Think You Can Dance or any other reality show we simply couldn't stomach. These gems were canceled far too soon for our unpopular taste, which made us question the intelligence of the average TV watcher very sad: Joan of Arcadia, The Riches, Related, Six Degrees, Life on Mars, Eli Stone, Pushing Daisies (thanks for the reminder, Pam!), Flight of the Conchords and Saving Grace (the upcoming season is the final season).

What's up, people?

A friend recently gave us the first season of Lost -- and we love it so far! It'll take us quite some time to get through the seven seasons, but at least we know this series can't be canceled on us.

I wish I could say the same for Parenthood.

Today's question:

What's one of your all-time favorite TV shows?

My answer: I really loved St. Elsewhere ... and Quantum Leap. But that may just be nostalgia talking.

With this kiss, I thee wed

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Jim and I will celebrate our Kiss Anniversary tomorrow. We used to call it our First Kiss Anniversary but we got lazy at about our 15th and it's now known by the slightly shorter name. This is our 29th year celebrating it, usually with just a card ... and a kiss.

I'm not a mushy gushy kind of person. I don't watch Lifetime television, I'm not a fan of Nicholas Sparks, and my musical preferences lean more toward hard rock than ... gosh, I don't even know the name of mushy gushy love-song singers. Oh, wait. That's probably Celine Dion or someone along those lines. That kind of music does bring a tear to my eye, but it's usually because I'm trying to control the waves of nausea that come over me when I hear anything from that genre.

That being said, I've always recalled the date of our first kiss ... but only because it was the date of my older brother's birthday. My brother wasn't there for that chaste but fateful kiss; it just happened to take place on his birthday.

It was Jim -- who's a little more mushy gushy than I -- who started the tradition of celebrating the moment that changed our lives. Only that first celebration wasn't all that fun. In fact, it scared the hell out of me and, for a few moments, I was pretty sure I wouldn't live to see another day, much less another celebration of any sort.

Jim had an apartment of his own and I lived a few blocks away with my mom and sisters. We lived in an old house that had only a bathtub, no shower. And I hated taking only a bath. Jim had a shower, and I regularly drove the few blocks to take a shower at his place.

This one particular day, the date of our first kiss anniversary (although I didn't consider it any big deal) Jim was leaving for work as I was arriving to use his shower. Like I said, we kissed hello, kissed goodbye, he headed to work, I headed for the shower.

As I got out of the shower, I heard noises. In the apartment. An apartment that wasn't in the best part of town and had creepy weird guys living upstairs. I froze and listened. Yep, there was someone in the tiny apartment, moving stuff around, going through Jim's record collection.

What do I do? I searched the cabinets for a weapon and found nothing more than a brush and a Bic shaver. I held my ear to the door. Still there was shuffling. I couldn't open the door -- my clothes were in the bedroom and I refused to be seen naked by some killer. I couldn't climb out the window for the very same reason ... plus, I'd already checked it and there was no way I'd be able to reach the opening far above my head.

I sat on the toilet lid and started to cry, as silently as possible so the killer wouldn't realize there was some frightened naked girl hiding out in the bathroom.

Then music started playing. The killer had put on a record. A Led Zeppelin record ... one of the more mellow songs. Well, if he's playing "Thank You" or something similarly sweet from Zeppelin, he can't be that mean and horrible of a killer ... but a killer just the same.

I once again assessed my situation. No weapon, no way out, no clothes. And no choice. I had to get out of there.

I slowly, quietly turned the door handle ... and cracked open the door, trying to survey the tiny bit of the living room I could see. I heard music, but saw no one. I wrapped the towel tighter around myself and crept into the hallway. Peeking around each corner, it became obvious that the killer had left.

But wait! The killer had left something on the table. I scooted closer and closer ... and found a Hostess Ding Dong on a saucer, one lit candle in its center. And a greeting card next to it.

"Freakin' crazy," I thought to myself as I opened the card, imagining serial killer scenarios involving wooing the victim into eating Ding Dongs and listening to Zeppelin as the killer stealthily dropped from the ceiling brandishing a long, sharp blade of some sort.

No serial killer dropped. And my heart swelled as I read the card: "Happy 1st Kiss Anniversary. Love, Jim."

While I showered, Jim had dashed to the store, grabbed the celebratory goods, arranged them on the table and turned on our version of a love song. Yep, this was the guy for me, the guy I'd spend the rest of my life with.

And the guy who almost made a scared, naked me crawl through a tiny opening in the bathroom in hopes of escaping some wacko Ding Dong-obsessed, Zeppelin-lovin' killer.

Now that I think of it, maybe it's that, the manner in which the first anniversary of our first kiss was recognized, that makes it a date impossible to forget. It really has nothing to do with it being my brother's birthday after all.

Regardless, I'm glad to still be celebrating Kiss Anniversaries with Ding Dong-obsessed, Zeppelin-loving Jim.

I'm even more glad I didn't smash out that bathroom window and shimmy through the shards of broken glass to save my naked butt from an imaginary killer. I'm pretty sure Jim wouldn't have stuck around to celebrate a second kiss anniversary if that had been the end result of his sweet gesture.

Today's question:

What's one non-traditional celebration you share with your loved ones?

My answer: In addition to the Kiss Anniversary, we had family-only Period Parties when each of the girls had their first period. The honoree received a box of sanitary pads, we ate Black Forest cake (ya know, the cherries and all), and we blasted Urge Overkill's version of "Girl, You'll Be A Woman Soon." It was a tongue-in-cheek way to mark a major milestone in the lives of our little women.

Time marches on

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Today is Jim's birthday ... the 29th birthday of his that we've celebrated together.

Like many long-time wives, I spend far more time complaining about my husband than I do complimenting him. So today, for his birthday, I'd like to do something a little different.

My top 10 reasons why I love my husband:

  1. He makes the bed every morning and helps with the dinner dishes every night.

  2. He loves independent and subtitled films as much as I do.

  3. Bubby's the cheese on his pizza, too, even though he'd never put it that way (and said I sounded really weird when I wrote that post).

  4. He has unflagging faith in my ability to make a living as a freelance writer, even to the point of encouraging me to not apply for jobs and not accept ones I'm offered -- despite our dwindling savings.

  5. He sings loud and proud and can sound just like Johnny Cash, Jeff Keith, Randy Travis, Brent Smith, Bobby Darin and Vusi Mahlasela from the South African township of Mamelodi ... to name just a few.

  6. He willingly buys tampons for me when I ask -- and gladly purchased the Black Forest cakes for the "period parties" we threw when each of the girls had their first period.

  7. The more grey he gets, the more handsome he becomes. 

  8. He loves Lyla, Isabel and Abby even though he tries to pretend Mickey is the one and only animal for him.

  9. He's given me shots, changed my catheter bag and literally carried me to the doctor when I couldn't walk. And would do it again in a heartbeat, if need be.

  10. He's my forever partner in parenting, grandparenting ... and home repair.

Happy birthday, Jim. I kinda think you are the cheese on my pizza, too!

Today's question:

What was your best birthday celebration ever?

My answer: The year Megan scared the hell out of me surprised me on my birthday by flying home to be at the house when I got home from work. (And Jim kept the secret for months!)