Confessions Of An Encore Bride

Although baby, it’s still cold out there, this is the first day of Spring, and that’s as good a time as any to talk about the subjects of l-l-l-love and m-m-m-marriage. Which two things, I can now sincerely say — without bitterness (or stuttering) — are not always mutually exclusive.

It was not always thus. My romantic escapades often played out like the words of popular songs, and if you think about it, love songs are not generally all that cheery. As in “I’ve Got It Bad And That Ain’t Good.” Enough said. As for marriage, both the groom and I have more than our share of exes, although, to our knowledge, none of them live in Texas. A good thing too, because if we wanted to gather them all together (what a thought!), we’d have to rent out Yankee Stadium.
  So, in a triumph of optimism over experience, or romance over reality, we tried again, and though they said it wouldn’t last (actually, nobody said this, but it sounds good), more than a year later, we’re still here, still not bitter — and that ain’t bad.

And so, without further ado, click read more for a column I wrote for New York Woman and which I read to the assembled masses at the reception.

(Check out the shoes: they’ll feature in a upcoming blog, Nothing Is Simple, about getting it all together for the w-w- w-wedding. St-st-st-still st-st-st-stuttering when I think about that.)

Why Now? 
Confessions of an “Encore Bride”

Why would two people who have been together for nearly 20 years (19, but who’s counting) finally decide to get
married?

Don’t ask me. I’m the alleged bride, so I’m too stressed to be coherent. But if I were an innocent bystander (remember, no one is innocent), I would give the following
reasons:

•Having had the longest engagement in recorded history, people are beginning to ask, “Engaged in what, exactly?”

•We are not getting any younger, and if we don’t do this soon,we won’t look good in the pictures.

•The groom took this new drug (you’ve seen the commercial), and one of the side effects is a sudden, uncontrollable urge to do something crazy. Do you think we can sue?

•Whenever one of us has a medical procedure, we lie, because you have to be ‘immediate family” to stay together in a hospital.So far, we’ve gotten away with it, but someday someone may catch on.

That’s reason enough to get married at this stage of life, as Joyce Behar pointed out on The View recently. I love that woman; I hope she’ll marry her longtime love, too. Although she gets cranky if you mention it.

•Tony Bennett just got married after 20 years with the same woman— and if it’s good enough for Tony Bennett, it’s good enough for me. We met the Great One and his girlfriend about 15 years ago, when he was making his “comeback.” I guess he feels he’s getting steady work now, so he’s ready to commit.

Commit. Such a strange word. Quick! What’s the first thing you think of when I say “commit”—a mental asylum or a long-lasting relationship? Yes, that was a test. And you probably failed. Personally, I think it’s both. It’s crazy to live with someone, but it’s hard to live alone. Given the choices, I’d rather commit.

But why do it legally?

• It will make my parents very happy. Besides, they’re in their nineties, so if we don’t do it soon, they won’t look good in the pictures, either.

•It will set a good example for the groom’s (12!) grandchildren, Now, when they introduce us, they’ll be able to say Poppy and his “wife,”instead of Poppy and his “er, uh, um, friend. .  .”

•I myself have been struggling for nearly two decades to find le mot juste. Or anything that makes sense.
 
“Friend” is not the whole truth, is it?.  “Fiancé?” How long can I get away with saying that? “Boyfriend?”He’s not exactly a “boy.” I’m not exactly a “girl” either, but that’s nobody’s business. (My mother uses the term “lady friend,” and that’s so cute, but only for my mother.) “Partner” sounds too businesslike, although gay couples do say that. “Companion” brings to mind an attendant pushing an old person in a wheelchair,  a blanket over his knees. “My old man/lady?” What is this, the sixties?” Lover?” Not infront of the grandchildren, you don’t!

I once tried to invent a new term for this situation. I’m a writer, I should be able to think of something, right? Not exactly The best I could come up with was “Co.” As in: co-habitor, co-partner, co-resident, co-owner. co-conspirator. Co-defendant? Co-dependent? Strangely, this term never caught on. And so, my friends, I will have to settle for (gasp) “my husband.” It won’t be the first time, but that’s another story.

Coming Soon:
“Nothing is Simple” Or: What Put Me Over The Edge Was The Flute Player