15 Years Later

Part 1: Dating. 

Man, I don’t miss it at all.   Next year, my wife and I will celebrate our 25^th wedding anniversary by taking a trip to South America.  While there, we intend to enjoy some of the world’s finest grass-fed beef and red wine.  These are the things we look forward to now, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.  I’m fired up.  Twenty-five years.  Sign me up for a hundred more.

I could talk about my wife for days.  No one has a more unique personality combined with grace, respectability and a genuine care for others.  I don’t even understand how or where she acquires her clothes, but her style is amazing.  She is funny, she is warm, she is energetic, and she is beautiful.  She is a unicorn.  I married a unicorn.

But while I could go on from now until next Tuesday about her, that’s not why I’m here today. 

I’m here to talk about dating. 

This rite of passage is something that you fail at over and over until you finally get it right.  Seemingly, there is no rhyme or reason as to why it eventually works out.  Sometimes you think you have actually made it, so you commit harder than you ever have.  And you enjoy doing it. 

Then it’s even worse when it doesn’t work out.  And what follows is an empty hole in your stomach that you think will never heal.  But eventually it does.  And then you try it again.

Before I met my wife, the list of my exes reads like a sit-com casting.  There are some great people on that list.  And there are others that are…well…unique. 

The girl I had the longest relationship with presently has 6 children.  I was not built for that kind of life.  It’s best that we parted.  Best for society, really.  I can barely take care of myself.

Another girl buried one of my cassette tapes in her backyard as some kind of break-up ritual.  Then she used a toothbrush that I left behind to brush her dog’s teeth.  That went in the back yard as well.  How do I know these things?  She told me.  I think that was somehow intended to lure me back.  Dodged a bullet there.

When I reflect on dating, I just remember constantly feeling like I was in a head spin.  It was an era of cluelessness.  I knew where I wanted to end up on the map, but I had no idea how to get there.  And my efforts, my “game,” was an absolute joke.

This was dating.

Part 2: Wings.

Ok, let’s talk about 15 Years Later for a moment.  Just in case you’ve been wondering, here’s what happens when Mike and I get together while writing this hot mess. 

It’s the same meeting place every time: the bar at Buffalo Wild Wings.  We’ll have some food and a few drinks and talk about what the next blog entry might be. 

It takes quite the effort for us to create this entertainment for you.  We hope you’ve enjoyed it so far.  If someone has to eat all these wings and drink this beer for the good of the order, we’re willing to sacrifice.  But we have made one rule. 

No 15 Years Later talk until we’ve ordered the second drink.  We’ve found that we just enjoy the bullshitting, so the first beer is reserved for genuine catch-up. 

Maybe some of that discussion will show up in writing, maybe it won’t.  I mean, we are there to create a blog.  But still, it’s fun knowing that the other guy is showing up ready to give a funny take on something that’s happened recently, or an entertaining story from his past. 

It’s catch-up time, so it’s story time.  Each guy knows it and comes prepared.  And it ain’t Long-Story-Short, that’s for sure.  This isn’t something we organized, it just started happening.  For example, I remember for one of the meetings, I was waiting to deliver this as my opening line when we started talking:

“So since we met last time, I finally got written up at work.” 

I knew it would get a laugh.  I was counting on it, so I waited for the right moment to let that little beauty fly.  This, of course, would be before the second beer.

On that day, the item of interest after the first beer was the fact that Mike was planning to watch my band play a show.  Our next one coming up was at a place called Danny’s Pizza and Pub.  It was going to be a great night out.

So Mike and I planned a meeting to discuss him showing up for that night.  We thought it might be something fun that we could write about.  We sat down for the bullshitting pregame.  We ordered our first drinks.  I had my line about getting written up ready to go, and then Mike brought something up… the rest of the meeting never happened like it usually does.

He was frustrated about being head over heels about a girl.  We’ll call her Ivy.  She had been a close friend, but there was also a history of mixed signals.  And apparently, she was pretty attractive. 

There were moments when it looked like they might move into a non-friendship space, but those hadn’t gone anywhere.  Our boy was in a constant state of wondering just…what the hell… was going on.  He needed to get it off his chest.  So our normal bullshitting was stopped in its tracks.  And we talked it over. 

I’ll leave any more details about that Ivy conversation out of this.  If Mike wants to, he can tell you.  That’s up to him and I think you and I should respect his decision on that.  But that day I told him two things:

1. This probably won’t end well.  If she really wanted to, she would have helped to get you guys to the next step by now.

2.  Maybe I’m wrong.  Maybe she’s waiting on you, so you need to know.  Knowing is much better than not knowing.  So push the issue.  Make the move.  Have the conversation.  If you find out it’s a no, you can move on.  If it’s a yes, you’ll get everything you’re looking for.  Either way, even though it’s terrifying, you’ll be better off on the other side.

Part 3: Danny’s.

So it’s a Saturday in June and I’m getting ready to play a 3 hour set in a pizza bar.  It’s a decent crowd.  Not huge, but decent.  As a musician, you can tell what kind of night it’s going to be by scanning the crowd right before you go on.  This one’s going to be fun. 

A record store owner is sitting right up front with his wife.  He’s got a lot of energy and loves to be supportive.  My wife is in the middle of the room with a group of my friends.  It’s the rowdy group.  They’ll be obnoxious, so it’s great.  Our guitar player’s entire family is here.  They dance and holler.   And our drummer’s wife showed up with her friends.  They’re always fun and make requests. 

I’m on in five and the crowd’s looking alive.  Let’s go to work.  We’re gonna have a good time tonight.

I order a beer for the stage, I look to my left, and there he is.  At the end of the bar, Mike Whildin is sitting there, raising his drink in my direction with a cute girl on his arm.  That son of a bitch did it.  I knew in one moment’s vision that our guy held his balls in his hands, got brave, and made his move.  And here he was with Ivy for a night out at Danny’s. 

I still had a minute, so I quickly walked over to say hi and enjoyed watching Mike introduce her as if I’d never heard of her before.  I said “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ivy.  I hope you guys enjoy the show.”

I never saw Ivy again.  Seems like #1 from above was more on point than #2, but #2 carried the wisdom that our boy needed.  Knowing is always better than not knowing. 

The band and I went on to play a really good three hours of music.  There was dancing.  There was cheering.  The record store owner bought a round of shots.  Maybe two?  And the five of us were locked in.  I’ve said it before, but when all five guys are on the same page, when we’re all hitting at the right time…there’s just no feeling like it.  And the people in the room can feel it.  The night out at Danny’s was a fun night and a success for the band.

During our break half-way through, I went over to check in on Mike and Ivy and they were gone.  I didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad one, but I didn’t have any time to think over the possibilities.  I was back on in five and the crowd was definitely still alive.  And we were having a good time that night.

More important to our story, though.  As a result of that night, our guy Mike eventually found out.  Finding out may not be the best feeling in life.  Sometimes the truth isn’t what you want to hear.  But in my experience, having found out is always better than not knowing.

But I’ll tell you this.  I believe that good guys always win out in the end.   One day, our guy will find out what the other side of that coin feels like.   And he’s going to realize that it’s even that much better.  And I’m starting to think I might be around to hear about it and enjoy watching it happen.