VI. A brief interlude in which I explain why I proposed to Shauna after so short a courtship.
It was toward the end of August. I was sitting in the single’s ward in the Ensign Stake. We met in the old 20th ward building at 2nd Ave and J--a beautiful old building with antique stained glass windows.
My roommates and several others were waiting with me for Priesthood meeting to begin when Larry_____, the 2nd counselor in the Bishopric, walked in. "Hey, Larry," someone called out, "what are we talking about in Priesthood meeting this morning?"
We were a close group. We enjoyed a great camaraderie and even in Priesthood meeting exchanged a good deal of good-natured banter. Most of us were well into our thirties with a few even into their forties. All of us, I believe, wanted to marry, but were either frightened at the responsibility or for some other reason, just not ready for it yet.
Larry looked at us with a serious expression. "Take my advice and don’t try to joke with the Bishop this morning," he said. "He is nothing but dead serious. His best friend died this week. This is going to be one earnest lesson."
Our bishop, Bishop Stephen Nebeker, was so easy of manner, that I couldn’t help but feel that Larry was certainly exaggerating his seriousness. He wasn’t. Bishop Nebeker came in late--during the opening song. I, and almost everyone in that room, felt the sense of oppression in his manner.
After the opening prayer, Larry stood up and announced that the Bishop would be giving the lesson that morning.
"Brethren," he began in a very solemn tone of voice, "for some time now I have had the feeling that many of you are simply drifting. You are simply going no where, constantly postponing making important decisions. Ask yourself, ‘If I continue doing what I am doing now, where will I be in a year--in 10 years?’ I am not talking just about getting married--important as that is--I’m talking about every aspect of your lives. The lack of marriage is quite frankly merely symptomatic of the pattern of your lives.
"I feel deeply about this because this past week one of my dearest friends, Carl Okleberry, passed away from cancer. He was only 37 years old--younger than some of you. Was it because he was not living righteously? He was the Bishop of my home ward" (as he told us this, he was weeping). "He and I served together in the Young Men Presidency. He leaves behind 5 young sons and a beautiful wife."
Suddenly, he stopped speaking, paused for several moments, ceased weeping and looked out at us with a rather stern expression. "I don’t know why someone so young, so righteous, with so much to love for and so needed by family, Church and community would be struck down by so dread a disease, but this much I do know." Here he paused again, looked out at each of us individually, and then raised his voice and spoke slowly and deliberately, "Carl Okleberry may have lost his life, but he still has, and always will have, a beautiful wife and 5 wonderful sons, and the way things are going that is a great deal more than many of you will have unless things begin changing, and rather quickly, in your lives."
I wish I could convey the powerful spirit that was in that meeting. I have seldom, if ever, been so deeply moved.
Bishop Nebeker passed out cards & told us he wanted us to write down something we wanted to achieve in the next 6 months. I wrote that I wanted to meet someone that I could feel I could marry and that before 6 months passed, I would ask that girl to marry me.
As that 6 months date approached, I remembered the spirit of that meeting and I simply felt I had to fulfill my commitment. I realized that I had met someone I could feel good about asking to marry me, so I determined that I would ask Shauna to marry me.
Looking back on my life, I really wonder if would ever have found the courage to ask anyone to marry me without the tremendous push of that meeting. Bishop Nebeker was right--certainly about me, at any rate. I was simply drifting, postponing, dreaming, hoping, but doing very little.
And I was not alone. The counselor, Larry, was older than I, but the same pattern was, outwardly, at least, apparent in his actions. He had dated, probably dozens of girls in his life, but, as soon as things began to get serious, something, and I suspect his case was similar to mine and many others in that room, came up that ended the relationship. I doubt very much that without the impetus of that stern admonition that he would have changed course. He had dated, rather casually for several months, a particularly attractive English girl. She had an absolutely delightful British accent. After the meeting, he moved rather quickly (for someone in that group, at least) and within a month or so, he was engaged and shortly thereafter, he was married to the English girl.
And a good thing too. Within a year, he and his English wife had a child. Within another year, he was dead of a brain tumor, but he, like Carl Okleberry, would face resurrection knowing he had a family.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
Romance--V--I make a decision
V. Christmas getaway during which I make a decision.
After the Christmas party problem, I did all I could to heal the breach with Shauna by taking her out before I went on my Christmas vacation. But, of course, I also took JoAnn out very briefly. Then, just before leaving, I dropped by each of their apartments and gave each her Christmas present form me--a music box playing a romantic melody--Somewhere my love--and a journal in which I inscribed a romantic note. I was so proud of the inscription that I used exactly the same one for each girl (changing the name in the "To _______")--a fact that would come to haunt me later.
I had a wonderful time on my vacation. I rode down to my parents’ place in Southern California with my brother, Erin, and sister-in-law, Janice. They seemed wonderfully happy, and I must confess that I rather envied them. It was also a welcome break from carrying on a double courtship while pretending to each girl that my real affections were centered only--or, at least, mostly--on her.
I decided that I could not continue with the duplicity in which I found myself, and determined to end one relationship, but which?
On my birthday, I received a telegram from Shauna wishing me a happy birthday. That telegram more or less tipped the scales. As soon as I got back, I went to JoAnn, confessed that I had been dating someone else and that I needed to break off our relationship. I may have misread her feelings, (I frequently did with girls) but it seemed to me that she was mostly disappointed that I broke up with her before she had a chance to break up with me.
I began dating Shauna exclusively, but it seemed to me that she was beginning to turn cold too. I was later to learn that she was being hotly and ardently pursued by her former fiancé, Herbert Ungricht Jr., who was in his last year of medical school and did not wish to go into residency in a far-off location as a bachelor.
Nevertheless, on Valentine’s day as I stumbled out the door of my apartment, I found a blueberry cheesecake and a lunch sack on my front porch containing the inscription "For Merrill. Happy Valentine’s Day. Shauna."
At lunchtime, as I munched on those sandwiches, I dreamed about how wonderful it would be to have that quality of sandwich every day--little suspecting that I was eating the only sandwiches Shauna would ever make for my lunch. But I have gotten a blueberry cheesecake every Valentine’s day since then.
As I ate my lunch, I remembered that I had promised myself and had made a strong commitment and the date for both was coming up. I knew I needed to follow through.
After the Christmas party problem, I did all I could to heal the breach with Shauna by taking her out before I went on my Christmas vacation. But, of course, I also took JoAnn out very briefly. Then, just before leaving, I dropped by each of their apartments and gave each her Christmas present form me--a music box playing a romantic melody--Somewhere my love--and a journal in which I inscribed a romantic note. I was so proud of the inscription that I used exactly the same one for each girl (changing the name in the "To _______")--a fact that would come to haunt me later.
I had a wonderful time on my vacation. I rode down to my parents’ place in Southern California with my brother, Erin, and sister-in-law, Janice. They seemed wonderfully happy, and I must confess that I rather envied them. It was also a welcome break from carrying on a double courtship while pretending to each girl that my real affections were centered only--or, at least, mostly--on her.
I decided that I could not continue with the duplicity in which I found myself, and determined to end one relationship, but which?
On my birthday, I received a telegram from Shauna wishing me a happy birthday. That telegram more or less tipped the scales. As soon as I got back, I went to JoAnn, confessed that I had been dating someone else and that I needed to break off our relationship. I may have misread her feelings, (I frequently did with girls) but it seemed to me that she was mostly disappointed that I broke up with her before she had a chance to break up with me.
I began dating Shauna exclusively, but it seemed to me that she was beginning to turn cold too. I was later to learn that she was being hotly and ardently pursued by her former fiancé, Herbert Ungricht Jr., who was in his last year of medical school and did not wish to go into residency in a far-off location as a bachelor.
Nevertheless, on Valentine’s day as I stumbled out the door of my apartment, I found a blueberry cheesecake and a lunch sack on my front porch containing the inscription "For Merrill. Happy Valentine’s Day. Shauna."
At lunchtime, as I munched on those sandwiches, I dreamed about how wonderful it would be to have that quality of sandwich every day--little suspecting that I was eating the only sandwiches Shauna would ever make for my lunch. But I have gotten a blueberry cheesecake every Valentine’s day since then.
As I ate my lunch, I remembered that I had promised myself and had made a strong commitment and the date for both was coming up. I knew I needed to follow through.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Romance--IV Our dating resumes--with an exception
IV. Shauna and I resume our dating where we left off--with an exception.
After Shauna passed her test, I was thrilled, of course, to be able to start dating her again. But I was also thrilled to be able to start dating JoAnn Parker again. I had dated JoAnn for over six months before she broke it off, which was shortly before I met Shauna. She had the advantage of being a returned German missionary. (Shauna had gone to France-Belgium on her mission.) And although, we never actually spoke German on our dates, I could visualize us sitting together, blissfully reading Schiller and helping our children recite "Das Lied von der Glocke". On the other hand, I couldn’t imagine Shauna getting very excited about Schiller and I was certainly not likely to get excited about Voltaire. But there were other things. The fact is, I loved being with each one. I loved Shauna’s laugh and cheery enthusiasm about so many things, but with JoAnn, well, there was always Schiller.
My life settled into a fairly predictable routine. I dated each girl twice a week--once during the week--a sort of quick, informal date-- and once on the week-end, in a more conventional, formal date--usually, a movie or a dinner.
I came to feel more and more sneaky about the whole thing. Oh, I made it clear that I was dating others, but that was the problem, I never had the courage to tell either of them that "others" was really "another". The once-only-on-the-week-end thing was tough. I implied to both girls that it was a sort of code--rather like the "Code of the Woosters", only the "Code of the Gees" that until you were engaged you never took a girl out more than once on a week-end.
For Thanksgiving I went to visit my sister, Loni, in Rexburg, but, I also visited JoAnn at her parents’ home in St. Anthony and met her parents. She came down and met Loni, Allen, and their children. We had a wonderful time together and by the time I was on my way back to Salt Lake on Sunday night, I was sure that I going to marry JoAnn.
But once back, my certainty began to evaporate. I was just so strongly attracted to Shauna that as soon as I talked with her, I fell right back into the old dating pattern.
Most worrisome was the impending problem of company Christmas parties. Both girls had asked me before Thanksgiving to go with her to hers, and I had tentatively agreed, but was nervous. What if they were on the same night? I was sweating bullets until JoAnn said hers was on the Saturday before Christmas. I pressed Shauna and breathed a sigh of relief when she gave the date, which was the Friday before Christmas. At that point I positively promised each that I would go with her. I simply couldn’t believe my good luck. Unfortunately, what I failed to reckon with was the fact that Shauna was as poor with dates as she had been with math (before I tutored her, naturally). In a sense, the problem of the two cans of orange juice had raised its head again.
A couple of days before the party, she announced that she had gotten the date wrong. It was actually on Saturday. I felt terrible, but I had to tell her that I simply could not go. What was worse, was that the date with JoAnn did not go well at all. I began to sense the same sort of coolness that I had sensed before we broke up with me at the end of the summer. I found myself wishing that I could have gone with Shauna to her party.
After Shauna passed her test, I was thrilled, of course, to be able to start dating her again. But I was also thrilled to be able to start dating JoAnn Parker again. I had dated JoAnn for over six months before she broke it off, which was shortly before I met Shauna. She had the advantage of being a returned German missionary. (Shauna had gone to France-Belgium on her mission.) And although, we never actually spoke German on our dates, I could visualize us sitting together, blissfully reading Schiller and helping our children recite "Das Lied von der Glocke". On the other hand, I couldn’t imagine Shauna getting very excited about Schiller and I was certainly not likely to get excited about Voltaire. But there were other things. The fact is, I loved being with each one. I loved Shauna’s laugh and cheery enthusiasm about so many things, but with JoAnn, well, there was always Schiller.
My life settled into a fairly predictable routine. I dated each girl twice a week--once during the week--a sort of quick, informal date-- and once on the week-end, in a more conventional, formal date--usually, a movie or a dinner.
I came to feel more and more sneaky about the whole thing. Oh, I made it clear that I was dating others, but that was the problem, I never had the courage to tell either of them that "others" was really "another". The once-only-on-the-week-end thing was tough. I implied to both girls that it was a sort of code--rather like the "Code of the Woosters", only the "Code of the Gees" that until you were engaged you never took a girl out more than once on a week-end.
For Thanksgiving I went to visit my sister, Loni, in Rexburg, but, I also visited JoAnn at her parents’ home in St. Anthony and met her parents. She came down and met Loni, Allen, and their children. We had a wonderful time together and by the time I was on my way back to Salt Lake on Sunday night, I was sure that I going to marry JoAnn.
But once back, my certainty began to evaporate. I was just so strongly attracted to Shauna that as soon as I talked with her, I fell right back into the old dating pattern.
Most worrisome was the impending problem of company Christmas parties. Both girls had asked me before Thanksgiving to go with her to hers, and I had tentatively agreed, but was nervous. What if they were on the same night? I was sweating bullets until JoAnn said hers was on the Saturday before Christmas. I pressed Shauna and breathed a sigh of relief when she gave the date, which was the Friday before Christmas. At that point I positively promised each that I would go with her. I simply couldn’t believe my good luck. Unfortunately, what I failed to reckon with was the fact that Shauna was as poor with dates as she had been with math (before I tutored her, naturally). In a sense, the problem of the two cans of orange juice had raised its head again.
A couple of days before the party, she announced that she had gotten the date wrong. It was actually on Saturday. I felt terrible, but I had to tell her that I simply could not go. What was worse, was that the date with JoAnn did not go well at all. I began to sense the same sort of coolness that I had sensed before we broke up with me at the end of the summer. I found myself wishing that I could have gone with Shauna to her party.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Romance--3 Out dating comes to a halt
III. Our dating career comes to a sudden and surprising halt.
I was sitting in my not-too-comfortable apartment on D street looking forward to the week-end and another blissful day with Shauna when the phone rang. As those of us who are punctilious about our grammar are careful to say, "It was she."
"I need you to help me", she said almost pleadingly and then added with a sense of urgency, "tonight."
We 34 year old bachelors on a roll with an exciting dating partner are always willing, and usually even eager, to help said dating-damsel-in-distress, especially since the age of dragons--and similar dangers--has pretty much past. "Certainly," I responded chivalrously, "name the time and place and I shall be at your service." Well, what I actually said was more like, "Ah-er--I suppose so. What do you need me to do?" But the intent was the same.
Shauna then launched into a long and, I’m afraid to say, tedious explanation, the gist of which (for the benefit of the impatient reader) was that she was hired to teach 2nd grade with the understanding that she had a teaching certificate. She did not have said certificate, because she lacked a math class, which, if she did not complete by October 31st (it then being early October), she would lose her job. The tedious part of the explanation, which, as I mentioned above, I have spared the reader on account of his/her impatience, had to do with how and why she was hired when she lacked the required certificate. Naturally, through all of this, I became increasingly eager to know how I was supposed to help, my teacher-certificate-awarding-capability being very very limited. When I finally mentioned this, she explained how I was to help. Fortunately, she explained, she did not actually have to complete the class. All she really needed to do was to pass a test challenging the class, which she planned to do the next day, with a little help from me by way of prep-study that evening.
I was happy to oblige.
Accordingly, a short time later, I found myself with Shauna in the Murray City library. She opened a math book containing a practice quiz and said, "Let’s start with some of these problems."
It was somewhere between 20 and 40 seconds into this training session that I realized that there was absolutely no hope that she was going to pass that math test. At this point I was in something of a quandary. I really liked Shauna and was, therefore, eager to be as helpful as possible. On the other hand, I felt certain that by associating myself too closely with the disastrous results of the upcoming test, I would be leaving an unpleasant association toward me in her mind. I decided, therefore, that the safest course was to be helpful from a distance. I told her that I felt it best if she worked alone until she had a question and that I would be looking over the library collection while she studied, and consequently, would be handy if she needed me. During the next half hour or so, she called me over a couple of times. Shortly after she called me the last time, a rather handsome fellow walked over to her and they began an animated discussion. I was just getting a bit annoyed by this when Shauna signaled for me to come over.
"This is my friend, Larry ______," she introduced as I approached. "He’s studying to be a seminary teacher." We shook hands and as we did so Shauna continued, "This is my friend, Merrill. He’s and engineer."
"Oh, I started out in engineering." Larry said enthusiastically (he was always enthusiastic), "but I decided that I am more of a people person than a machine person."
"Yes," I responded. "There are only two kinds of people; those who relate to people and those who relate to machines, but, of course, you can’t relate to both." I tried to sound ironical, but to no avail. Although I really don’t believe that you are either a people- or a machine-relater, I do believe that there are only two kinds of people--those who understand irony and those who don’t. Larry was one of the "don’ts".
"That’s really true," he said--as always, enthusiastically.
"Well, I guess I better get back to studying," Shauna said with a smile--and she did have the cutest smile. She tried to study for a few more minutes, but it was obvious that the conversation with Larry had broken her study pattern, so she gave it up and we went out for a snack and then home.
The next day after work I got a call. "You will never believe this, "Shauna almost sobbed. "I failed the test!" This, I felt, was one of the very few of life’s little shocks for which I was, in fact, amply prepared. "Now I have to take the class," she continued, "and I have to finish it by the 31st or I lose my job. You’ve got to help me."
We worked out a plan of attack and made an agreement. There would be no dating whatsoever between us while she was working on the class. Ours would be strictly an academic arrangement. She would come over every night and we would work through one chapter and she would mail it in.
And we did it. She completed all the assignments, took--and passed--the final exam, with, I believe, one or two days to spare.
Although we did no dating, this was the best dating investment I ever made in a most, as mentioned before, unillustrious dating career. We learned more about each other than we would have learned in many months of conventional dating.
Toward the end of October, I got a call from JoAnn Parker inviting me to go with her to a symphony orchestra concert. I took an evening off from math tutoring. JoAnn and I had a wonderful time and it was clear that she had reconsidered her previous rebuffs.
I was sitting in my not-too-comfortable apartment on D street looking forward to the week-end and another blissful day with Shauna when the phone rang. As those of us who are punctilious about our grammar are careful to say, "It was she."
"I need you to help me", she said almost pleadingly and then added with a sense of urgency, "tonight."
We 34 year old bachelors on a roll with an exciting dating partner are always willing, and usually even eager, to help said dating-damsel-in-distress, especially since the age of dragons--and similar dangers--has pretty much past. "Certainly," I responded chivalrously, "name the time and place and I shall be at your service." Well, what I actually said was more like, "Ah-er--I suppose so. What do you need me to do?" But the intent was the same.
Shauna then launched into a long and, I’m afraid to say, tedious explanation, the gist of which (for the benefit of the impatient reader) was that she was hired to teach 2nd grade with the understanding that she had a teaching certificate. She did not have said certificate, because she lacked a math class, which, if she did not complete by October 31st (it then being early October), she would lose her job. The tedious part of the explanation, which, as I mentioned above, I have spared the reader on account of his/her impatience, had to do with how and why she was hired when she lacked the required certificate. Naturally, through all of this, I became increasingly eager to know how I was supposed to help, my teacher-certificate-awarding-capability being very very limited. When I finally mentioned this, she explained how I was to help. Fortunately, she explained, she did not actually have to complete the class. All she really needed to do was to pass a test challenging the class, which she planned to do the next day, with a little help from me by way of prep-study that evening.
I was happy to oblige.
Accordingly, a short time later, I found myself with Shauna in the Murray City library. She opened a math book containing a practice quiz and said, "Let’s start with some of these problems."
It was somewhere between 20 and 40 seconds into this training session that I realized that there was absolutely no hope that she was going to pass that math test. At this point I was in something of a quandary. I really liked Shauna and was, therefore, eager to be as helpful as possible. On the other hand, I felt certain that by associating myself too closely with the disastrous results of the upcoming test, I would be leaving an unpleasant association toward me in her mind. I decided, therefore, that the safest course was to be helpful from a distance. I told her that I felt it best if she worked alone until she had a question and that I would be looking over the library collection while she studied, and consequently, would be handy if she needed me. During the next half hour or so, she called me over a couple of times. Shortly after she called me the last time, a rather handsome fellow walked over to her and they began an animated discussion. I was just getting a bit annoyed by this when Shauna signaled for me to come over.
"This is my friend, Larry ______," she introduced as I approached. "He’s studying to be a seminary teacher." We shook hands and as we did so Shauna continued, "This is my friend, Merrill. He’s and engineer."
"Oh, I started out in engineering." Larry said enthusiastically (he was always enthusiastic), "but I decided that I am more of a people person than a machine person."
"Yes," I responded. "There are only two kinds of people; those who relate to people and those who relate to machines, but, of course, you can’t relate to both." I tried to sound ironical, but to no avail. Although I really don’t believe that you are either a people- or a machine-relater, I do believe that there are only two kinds of people--those who understand irony and those who don’t. Larry was one of the "don’ts".
"That’s really true," he said--as always, enthusiastically.
"Well, I guess I better get back to studying," Shauna said with a smile--and she did have the cutest smile. She tried to study for a few more minutes, but it was obvious that the conversation with Larry had broken her study pattern, so she gave it up and we went out for a snack and then home.
The next day after work I got a call. "You will never believe this, "Shauna almost sobbed. "I failed the test!" This, I felt, was one of the very few of life’s little shocks for which I was, in fact, amply prepared. "Now I have to take the class," she continued, "and I have to finish it by the 31st or I lose my job. You’ve got to help me."
We worked out a plan of attack and made an agreement. There would be no dating whatsoever between us while she was working on the class. Ours would be strictly an academic arrangement. She would come over every night and we would work through one chapter and she would mail it in.
And we did it. She completed all the assignments, took--and passed--the final exam, with, I believe, one or two days to spare.
Although we did no dating, this was the best dating investment I ever made in a most, as mentioned before, unillustrious dating career. We learned more about each other than we would have learned in many months of conventional dating.
Toward the end of October, I got a call from JoAnn Parker inviting me to go with her to a symphony orchestra concert. I took an evening off from math tutoring. JoAnn and I had a wonderful time and it was clear that she had reconsidered her previous rebuffs.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Romance--II Shauna and I begin dating.
Shauna and I begin dating.
Several days after the fascinating details recorded in the previous chapter, I was walking down the street with my usual jaunty gait when JoAnn Parker honked and waived at me as she drove by. From this action, I quite naturally concluded that she regretted breaking up with me and that she was quite madly in love with me. I, therefore, after a few days of working up the necessary nerve, asked her to go with me to a production of "The Merry Widow". She accepted, but from a certain coolness in her tone of voice, I concluded that the honk she had given me was not intended to convey all the meaning, or, at least, exactly the meaning, I had read into it. In fact, I rather gathered that she did want to see "The Merry Widow", but would have preferred to do so in someone else’s company.
I knew that if the date was as big a bust as our last one had been, that I would be depressed for at least a week--most likely longer--so I decided to take steps to shield myself against depression by getting a date with someone I could be excited about for the next night. The only such person who came readily to mind was Shauna Bowman. So accordingly, I called her and invited her to go with me to a production of "The Mikado" at the Promised Valley Playhouse. To my delight (and somewhat to my surprise), she accepted. Since this was Thursday night and our date was for Saturday, I was nervous that there would be no tickets left, so I dashed down to the box office.
"Do you have any tickets left for Saturday night?" I asked eagerly.
"Certainly."
I breathed a sigh of relief and pocketed the tickets without even bothering to look at them. To this day, I am not sure whether that was a good thing or a bad, but it did result in a surprise--and not the kind we generally look forward to.
I had been correct in my assessment of the situation with JoAnn. The performance of "the Merry Widow" was delightful; the date was not. It became quickly apparent that JoAnn had accepted the date to (a) see "the Merry Widow" and (b) to make it clear to me that she most certainly and definitely did not desire a return engagement. At the end of the play, I suggested that we go to an ice cream parlor for a snack, to which she responded, Let’s not. It’s late and I’m tired. Let’s go home". Which, of course, we did.
I was somewhat depressed, but I was grateful, and even excited, that I had prepared myself against great depression by making the date with Shauna.
I found out later that I came very very close to an exceedingly bad case of double depression. Shauna had spent most of the day with Leroy Hannon, who had come all the way up from Texas to visit her. Just before our date, she decided that since he had come all that way that she really should spend the evening with him. She called over to my apartment to cancel our date, but, fortunately, I had already left.
She sent Leroy off to friends and was taking out her garbage, when she saw me clearing a spot in my car for her by transferring books and papers from the passenger seat to the trunk.
"Obviously, he isn’t anymore excited about this date than I am," she thought.
The date was exactly the opposite my date the night before. Although, I avoided the disaster of having the date actually canceled, the rest of the date was a series of disasters. But the overall date was, for me at least, delightful. The first problem was that Shauna assumed that when I had asked her to "The Mikado", that I meant the restaurant of that name and had, therefore, not eaten and was most hungry.
When we got to the theater I presented the tickets and we were shown to our seats, but we soon noticed that a couple kept staring intently at us. At first, I assumed that the girl was doubtlessly one of 100 girls--as mentioned earlier--I had previously dated and was staring at us, annoyed that I had found so attractive a replacement, but it became apparent that such was not the case, because the fellow was, if anything, staring more intently than the girl. I was relieved, therefore, when they left, but shortly, they returned accompanied by an usher.
"May I see your tickets?" he asked. When I produced them, he continued, "You will need to come with me." He conducted us down to the lobby, but I noticed as we walked out that the couple, with a look mixed with relief and triumph, seated themselves in what had been our seats.
"I’m afraid that your tickets are for the wrong night. These are worthless," the usher announced as we stepped into the lobby. Sure enough, a glance at the tickets showed that they were for Thursday night. I can only imagine that I was so excited about the need for tickets that the ticket person assumed I wanted them for that very night.
I was about to have us leave the theater, when Shauna said, "Absolutely not! You bought those tickets and didn’t use them. She marched up to the box office and voiced strong objection to the ticket person, who finally relented and had an usher conduct us to two vacant seats at the back of the theater.
I am not a real "Mikado" fan, but the performance was enjoyable.
Afterwards we went to Snelgrove’s for an ice cream. I didn’t care much for ice cream, so I ordered the smallest one on the menu and Shauna, although, I am sure she was famished, followed suit.
I had a marvelous time on our first date and promptly asked her for a second. Indeed, there followed a series of absolutely delightful dates.
Our third date took us to Layton to her cousin, Jennifer’s, wedding reception, which was held at Shauna’s grandparents Harris’s home. Of course, I met them. They were a delightful couple and association with them was to loom large, not only in our courtship, but also in our early married life. I also met her father, whose first words to me were, "Come by the house sometime and we can have a beer together."
Our 4th or 5th date was to Tremonton where we attended her cousin, Cami’s, missionary report. I enjoyed the report and I enjoyed being with Shauna on the way back, but both trips were frustrating. The trip up because she had brought a French girl friend and they sat together in the back seat and talked only with each other. That was bad enough, but to add to the misery of the moment, I got a ticket for having an expired safety inspection. (In my defense, I had actually taken it in for inspection, but the mechanic had not gotten to it.)
On the return trip, the French friend stayed in the back, but Shauna sat up front so we talked, but we drove back in a roaring blizzard, which dampened the experience considerably.
Several days after the fascinating details recorded in the previous chapter, I was walking down the street with my usual jaunty gait when JoAnn Parker honked and waived at me as she drove by. From this action, I quite naturally concluded that she regretted breaking up with me and that she was quite madly in love with me. I, therefore, after a few days of working up the necessary nerve, asked her to go with me to a production of "The Merry Widow". She accepted, but from a certain coolness in her tone of voice, I concluded that the honk she had given me was not intended to convey all the meaning, or, at least, exactly the meaning, I had read into it. In fact, I rather gathered that she did want to see "The Merry Widow", but would have preferred to do so in someone else’s company.
I knew that if the date was as big a bust as our last one had been, that I would be depressed for at least a week--most likely longer--so I decided to take steps to shield myself against depression by getting a date with someone I could be excited about for the next night. The only such person who came readily to mind was Shauna Bowman. So accordingly, I called her and invited her to go with me to a production of "The Mikado" at the Promised Valley Playhouse. To my delight (and somewhat to my surprise), she accepted. Since this was Thursday night and our date was for Saturday, I was nervous that there would be no tickets left, so I dashed down to the box office.
"Do you have any tickets left for Saturday night?" I asked eagerly.
"Certainly."
I breathed a sigh of relief and pocketed the tickets without even bothering to look at them. To this day, I am not sure whether that was a good thing or a bad, but it did result in a surprise--and not the kind we generally look forward to.
I had been correct in my assessment of the situation with JoAnn. The performance of "the Merry Widow" was delightful; the date was not. It became quickly apparent that JoAnn had accepted the date to (a) see "the Merry Widow" and (b) to make it clear to me that she most certainly and definitely did not desire a return engagement. At the end of the play, I suggested that we go to an ice cream parlor for a snack, to which she responded, Let’s not. It’s late and I’m tired. Let’s go home". Which, of course, we did.
I was somewhat depressed, but I was grateful, and even excited, that I had prepared myself against great depression by making the date with Shauna.
I found out later that I came very very close to an exceedingly bad case of double depression. Shauna had spent most of the day with Leroy Hannon, who had come all the way up from Texas to visit her. Just before our date, she decided that since he had come all that way that she really should spend the evening with him. She called over to my apartment to cancel our date, but, fortunately, I had already left.
She sent Leroy off to friends and was taking out her garbage, when she saw me clearing a spot in my car for her by transferring books and papers from the passenger seat to the trunk.
"Obviously, he isn’t anymore excited about this date than I am," she thought.
The date was exactly the opposite my date the night before. Although, I avoided the disaster of having the date actually canceled, the rest of the date was a series of disasters. But the overall date was, for me at least, delightful. The first problem was that Shauna assumed that when I had asked her to "The Mikado", that I meant the restaurant of that name and had, therefore, not eaten and was most hungry.
When we got to the theater I presented the tickets and we were shown to our seats, but we soon noticed that a couple kept staring intently at us. At first, I assumed that the girl was doubtlessly one of 100 girls--as mentioned earlier--I had previously dated and was staring at us, annoyed that I had found so attractive a replacement, but it became apparent that such was not the case, because the fellow was, if anything, staring more intently than the girl. I was relieved, therefore, when they left, but shortly, they returned accompanied by an usher.
"May I see your tickets?" he asked. When I produced them, he continued, "You will need to come with me." He conducted us down to the lobby, but I noticed as we walked out that the couple, with a look mixed with relief and triumph, seated themselves in what had been our seats.
"I’m afraid that your tickets are for the wrong night. These are worthless," the usher announced as we stepped into the lobby. Sure enough, a glance at the tickets showed that they were for Thursday night. I can only imagine that I was so excited about the need for tickets that the ticket person assumed I wanted them for that very night.
I was about to have us leave the theater, when Shauna said, "Absolutely not! You bought those tickets and didn’t use them. She marched up to the box office and voiced strong objection to the ticket person, who finally relented and had an usher conduct us to two vacant seats at the back of the theater.
I am not a real "Mikado" fan, but the performance was enjoyable.
Afterwards we went to Snelgrove’s for an ice cream. I didn’t care much for ice cream, so I ordered the smallest one on the menu and Shauna, although, I am sure she was famished, followed suit.
I had a marvelous time on our first date and promptly asked her for a second. Indeed, there followed a series of absolutely delightful dates.
Our third date took us to Layton to her cousin, Jennifer’s, wedding reception, which was held at Shauna’s grandparents Harris’s home. Of course, I met them. They were a delightful couple and association with them was to loom large, not only in our courtship, but also in our early married life. I also met her father, whose first words to me were, "Come by the house sometime and we can have a beer together."
Our 4th or 5th date was to Tremonton where we attended her cousin, Cami’s, missionary report. I enjoyed the report and I enjoyed being with Shauna on the way back, but both trips were frustrating. The trip up because she had brought a French girl friend and they sat together in the back seat and talked only with each other. That was bad enough, but to add to the misery of the moment, I got a ticket for having an expired safety inspection. (In my defense, I had actually taken it in for inspection, but the mechanic had not gotten to it.)
On the return trip, the French friend stayed in the back, but Shauna sat up front so we talked, but we drove back in a roaring blizzard, which dampened the experience considerably.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Romance--1 How I met Shauna
Our Love Story
by Kaey Gee
I. How I Met Shauna
I was 34 years old. I had dated over 100 different girls through a long, but singularly unillustrious dating career.
I was sitting in my apartment on D street when the phone rang.
"Hello," a pleasant female voice said. "This is Shauna Bowman. I don’t know you and you don’t know me, but Pat Knaus gave me your name and said you might be willing to come to a swimming party."
"I love swimming, " I responded enthusiastically--a true statement, made more so by the fact that I had just recently learned to do it, and even more so by the fact that the female voice at the other end of the line was very alluring. "Where and when?’
"Well, my folks have a swimming pool, but we are not going to hold our party there. Instead, a friend of my folks is coming to our house and we are going to hers. It is this Saturday night. Can you come? I need to know because if you can, you have a food assignment."
I agreed after a few more questions that I would come.
"Then you need to bring two small cans of frozen orange juice."
"What if I bring one large can?"
"Absolutely not. It must be two small cans."
I agreed to come--bringing two small cans of frozen orange juice, and then promptly called Pat Knaus, a friend with whom I danced almost every week at the Thursday night LDS dances at the Terrace Ballroom. The whole thing sounded terribly fishy. Why go into a long explanation about the game of musical swimming pools? And why insist on two 6 oz cans of orange juice rather than one 12 oz. can? Of course, I know the answers now. The first was due to the fact that Saturday night was the weekly drinking party at her parents’ home. The second was answered by the fact that 6+6 = 12 was a bit of advanced mathematics about which Shauna did not care to give a great deal of thought--a fact that was to play a most important part in our courtship in just a few weeks.
But, of course, I didn’t know any of that at the time, so I called Pat Knaus, who assured me that Shauna--and the party--were on the up and up.
So accordingly, Saturday night found me wending my way--slowly, as Shauna is fond of pointing out--down a street in Sandy, looking for the proper address. When I found it, I pulled up and the car which had been following me down the street pulled in behind me. Three girls tumbled out and the driver, a short girl of very attractive figure and even more fetching smile, approached me.
"You must be Merrill," she said, revealing a row of perfect teeth behind that smile. "I’m Shauna. Did you bring the two cans?"
Assuring her that I had indeed performed my part, we went into the party. I very much enjoyed that party. Pat Knaus was there, but she was much too busy flirting with John______, a handsome MD doing residency, to spend much time with me. Becky Armstrong, an old flame of mine, was there and we spent some time together. Sherry Sieverts, a good friend of Shauna’s, spent much time extolling the virtues of her friend. So I decided to try to get to know her personally, but with very little success. I did get to speak briefly with her by offering to dry the dishes she was washing. But having done that she was off on some other task, making sure that everything was in order--a pattern that has not much changed in the intervening thirty years.
I was one of two--both boys--who actually did some swimming. Shauna, later made much of the fact that I wore my shoes and black socks out to the pool, but not having brought any red socks or other swimming-appropriate gear, I had no choice.
Since there was a Stake dance in my stake that same night, I left the party early. I rather hoped that JoAnn Parker--the girl I had been dating all summer--would be there. On our last date she had made it clear that she did not wish to date me anymore, but I thought that meeting her at the dance might be a way to rekindle the romance, but, as I headed for the dance, I realized that the likelihood that JoAnn, who hated to dance, would be there was tiny. So I went straight home.
The next day, I penned a "thank you" to Shauna for inviting me to her party, little expecting that I would ever see her again--a feeling I’m sure she shared, the only thing about me that she could even remember being my black socks.
by Kaey Gee
I. How I Met Shauna
I was 34 years old. I had dated over 100 different girls through a long, but singularly unillustrious dating career.
I was sitting in my apartment on D street when the phone rang.
"Hello," a pleasant female voice said. "This is Shauna Bowman. I don’t know you and you don’t know me, but Pat Knaus gave me your name and said you might be willing to come to a swimming party."
"I love swimming, " I responded enthusiastically--a true statement, made more so by the fact that I had just recently learned to do it, and even more so by the fact that the female voice at the other end of the line was very alluring. "Where and when?’
"Well, my folks have a swimming pool, but we are not going to hold our party there. Instead, a friend of my folks is coming to our house and we are going to hers. It is this Saturday night. Can you come? I need to know because if you can, you have a food assignment."
I agreed after a few more questions that I would come.
"Then you need to bring two small cans of frozen orange juice."
"What if I bring one large can?"
"Absolutely not. It must be two small cans."
I agreed to come--bringing two small cans of frozen orange juice, and then promptly called Pat Knaus, a friend with whom I danced almost every week at the Thursday night LDS dances at the Terrace Ballroom. The whole thing sounded terribly fishy. Why go into a long explanation about the game of musical swimming pools? And why insist on two 6 oz cans of orange juice rather than one 12 oz. can? Of course, I know the answers now. The first was due to the fact that Saturday night was the weekly drinking party at her parents’ home. The second was answered by the fact that 6+6 = 12 was a bit of advanced mathematics about which Shauna did not care to give a great deal of thought--a fact that was to play a most important part in our courtship in just a few weeks.
But, of course, I didn’t know any of that at the time, so I called Pat Knaus, who assured me that Shauna--and the party--were on the up and up.
So accordingly, Saturday night found me wending my way--slowly, as Shauna is fond of pointing out--down a street in Sandy, looking for the proper address. When I found it, I pulled up and the car which had been following me down the street pulled in behind me. Three girls tumbled out and the driver, a short girl of very attractive figure and even more fetching smile, approached me.
"You must be Merrill," she said, revealing a row of perfect teeth behind that smile. "I’m Shauna. Did you bring the two cans?"
Assuring her that I had indeed performed my part, we went into the party. I very much enjoyed that party. Pat Knaus was there, but she was much too busy flirting with John______, a handsome MD doing residency, to spend much time with me. Becky Armstrong, an old flame of mine, was there and we spent some time together. Sherry Sieverts, a good friend of Shauna’s, spent much time extolling the virtues of her friend. So I decided to try to get to know her personally, but with very little success. I did get to speak briefly with her by offering to dry the dishes she was washing. But having done that she was off on some other task, making sure that everything was in order--a pattern that has not much changed in the intervening thirty years.
I was one of two--both boys--who actually did some swimming. Shauna, later made much of the fact that I wore my shoes and black socks out to the pool, but not having brought any red socks or other swimming-appropriate gear, I had no choice.
Since there was a Stake dance in my stake that same night, I left the party early. I rather hoped that JoAnn Parker--the girl I had been dating all summer--would be there. On our last date she had made it clear that she did not wish to date me anymore, but I thought that meeting her at the dance might be a way to rekindle the romance, but, as I headed for the dance, I realized that the likelihood that JoAnn, who hated to dance, would be there was tiny. So I went straight home.
The next day, I penned a "thank you" to Shauna for inviting me to her party, little expecting that I would ever see her again--a feeling I’m sure she shared, the only thing about me that she could even remember being my black socks.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Romance--intro
Since February is Valentine's month, I have decided that I will post the story of how I met and married my wife, Shauna (with her permission, of course). It is only fair to say (as she does whenever I tell this story), that her version of how it happened is a little bit--and in some places, more than a little bit--different.
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