Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Happy anniversary!


Two weeks after Mr. Carter was sworn in as President of the United States, in the midst of the Great Winter of '77, I finally stole my first kiss from Leslie.

And I'm still stealing them!

Happy 32nd anniversary!







(And I didn't mention that Rumours was released by Fleetwood Mac on the very same day because you would have hated that!)
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9 comments:

  1. AnonymousFebruary 4, 2009 at 9:23 AM

    Happy 32nd to you, too! And here's to many more.

    (Fleetwood Mac--really?)

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  2. AnonymousFebruary 4, 2009 at 10:39 AM

    I must add that I see you have given away my secret (or not so) Mets fixation.

    Now no one will take me seriously.

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  3. AnonymousFebruary 4, 2009 at 11:13 AM

    Happy Anniversary to both of you!

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  4. AnonymousFebruary 4, 2009 at 1:00 PM

    Congratulations! What a great day!

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  5. AnonymousFebruary 4, 2009 at 3:16 PM

    Happy Anniversary!

    Have a wonderful day.

    (And that was the same year of the Talking Heads first album, if I recall.)

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  6. Mrs. StawickiFebruary 4, 2009 at 9:01 PM

    How wonderful!! Congratulations!

    I believe they've just begun a Rumours rerelease tour, actually (sans Christine McVie). So I guess that you're both still going strong!

    Enjoy your anniversary!

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  7. UnknownFebruary 4, 2009 at 9:46 PM

    Happy 32nd! Congratulations on a great journey.

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  8. AnonymousFebruary 5, 2009 at 12:27 PM

    Hey- I bring you happy thoughts from the Midwest...

    In its brevity, this post tells more about you than the sum total of twenty others here. And that, my friend, is saying something.
    ;-)

    COngrats and best wishes!

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  9. AnonymousFebruary 9, 2009 at 5:03 AM

    Belated happy one!

    And fyi, shortly after you were stealing kisses from Leslie to Rumours, I was in Gatlinburg, Tennessee, enjoying independence and freedom in a summer job away from home and parental control for the first time in my life - I was "Executive Chef" in a tourist restaurant, which means I plopped the mashed potatoes and green peas on the plates of Southern eats, all in the storefront window before the eyes of passing tourists, including a lovely blonde of my own age with whom I fell in transitory puppy love across that magic glass - stealing probably my second (and countless more over the following weeks) kiss (braces-girded Vicky B. was my first) from her later, after I got off work.

    The soundtrack for those torrid first-base teen love scenes? Stevie Nicks' "Dreams," of course.

    Thanks for the memories and many happy returns.

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