43 years ago tonight I was well on my way to being shitfaced. [View all]

[trof]

Marine crawling, nose-picking drunk.
Away with the fairies.
Snockered.


I was at Martinetti's Motel and Restaurant ("Dine & Cocktails&quot ) in Crystal Lake, Illinois.


It was the night before my wedding.
My so-called groomsmen were aiding and abetting the celebration of my last day of bachelorhood.

My motto for that not-memorable evening was "NO EAT! DRINK!"
I was young(er) and foolish.

I think I passed out around 8:00 in the motel room.
My buddies hadn't eaten either, so they ordered pizza.
When it came they placed it on my comatose body and declared "HEY! The pizza's ON trof!"
Much merriment ensued...I am told.


At 11:00 the next morning I somehow managed to present myself at St. Mary's Episcopal Church for the nuptials.
Miz t. was stunning in a light green silk suit.
(It was a relatively informal ceremony. We had eloped.)
I was in a brand new black suit and as hungover as Hogan's goat.
My head was THROBBING, my vision slightly blurred.

At some point during the ceremony I dropped the prayer book or whatever it was I was holding.
I was afraid to bend over and pick it up.
Wasn't sure I'd be able to make it back upright.
I managed to prevail.
Maybe, if there is a god, that entity has a special consideration for fools and drunkards.


So...tomorrow we celebrate 43 years of wedded bliss (mostly).
Yee-Haa!