Frozen, Then Thawed ... Ain't Love Strange?

I haven’t blogged in some time, not since helping care for Mom in Vermont in August. I drafted a piece on the tyranny of infirmity, the mutual dependency that locks care giver and receiver into a tyrannical circle, each lovingly imposing on the other. But that hit too close to home and love and regret shut me down for weeks.

Last night love opened me up again.

Ann and I had a cocktail, after quite a day, and then adjourned to Il Terrazzo Carmine for roasted calamari, Carmine’s antipasto, duck, sweetbreads, a great Nobile di Montepulciano, and cappuccino – all in celebration of our 19th anniversary. We nuzzled together like a couple of parakeets and recounted sappy things like our favorite places we’ve been together, what makes us so happy with one another, how lucky we are … thank God no one could overhear us.

On the way home we began to speculate on what a double martini at 6:30 and a half bottle of wine between 8 and 10 would do to one’s blood alcohol level. Were we at or over the magical 0.08?

Curiosity consumed us: we detoured to the Mercer Island police headquarters, parked and went looking for a policeman to test our blood. We figured if we were illegal they’d either drive us home or call a cab – and we’d have learned something. Unfortunately, Mercer Island in its austerity campaign closes its police office at 10 and transfers calls to Bellevue. We weren’t giddy enough to drive over there, and decided to call it a night. Despite the seeming idiocy of the idea, I’m sure I was safely within legal limits. I had put 92.5ml of alcohol into my body mass of 75.3kgms over a span of 3.5 hours – go figure. But maybe the very notion of asking for a breath-o-meter test suggests otherwise…. And I’m suspicious of her; her body mass is only 55.34kgms.

Twenty-two years entwined with this lady of which nineteen married. And we’ve never had a fight! It continues to be a terrific ride.