I think that all true love stories begin with……once upon a time.
My once upon a time began long ago.
Long before we jumped.
Long before anyone ever tried to cook pancakes.
Back when there was just a dreamer…..
……and the girl who loved him.
I knew by the end of the first date……that he was the one.
I knew that I knew that I knew.
But I was young and he was young and I was at a college two hours away which seemed like an eternity and this was just our first date which really wasn’t even a first date except it involved Christmas lights and a lot of kissing.
A hopeless situation.
It was going to be over before it had even begun.
And then through the haze of anguish of disappointment and despair…..just as I turned to leave…..I heard him mention something about the group Rush and a concert and tickets and…..did I want to go?
A band? A group? Rock? Country? Classical?
I had absolutely positively no idea who they were.
Never heard of them.
But this was my chance…..my chance to see him again.
So in that moment…..in a split second…..without a second thought…..I blurted out “I love Rush!”
“Really?” he said in disbelief. “You like Rush?”
“Of course,” I nodded enthusiastically. “They are my favorite band in the whole world.”
I was so happy.
The perfect beginning to my once upon a time.
A month later…..he drove two hours to pick me up.
I counted every minute and I was waiting and ready to go in the perfect go-to-the-concert-with-a-guy-that-I-had-only-been-on-one-almost-date-with-who-was-a-really-good-kisser outfit.
I planned it so carefully.
I wore a prairie skirt with a sweater vest trimmed in ribbons and high-heeled shoes with ruffled socks and a bow with my name on it.
Classic rock ‘n roll.
And he swept me off my feet and drove me two hours back to the concert arena in his souped up car with duck-taped seats and a jam box. And I talked and talked and exclaimed how much I loved duct-taped seats and that a jam box was so much better than a radio in your car because the music was portable……and that I couldn’t wait to see Rush.
And then we arrived.
And walked into the smoky haze of the concert hall with people in leather and chaps with fringe and boots with bandanas and sunglasses….looking like they all just rode in from an episode of Knight Rider.
And my bow with my name on it wilted a little.
This was Rush?
I couldn’t understand what they were singing and the music was so loud and the drummers were drumming and the leather booted-people were chanting and swaying and lifting lighters in the hazy darkness.
That’s all it took for me to turn to my future husband and nervously whisper, “This group…..umm…..this isn’t the Rush group I was thinking about. I thought they would sing songs like Achey Breaky heart. I was thinking about another Rush group.”
To his credit he said nothing.
He just smiled and took my hand and guided me and my prairie skirt through the haze and the lighters and the leather.
And kissed me all the way home.
PS The duct-tape seats and jam boxes and prairie skirts and lettered bows are long gone…..but sometimes…..on a quiet night under the stars…..he pulls out his guitar and strums a Rush song just for me.
PPS If you want to make your own “spooning” project….I posted directions for the project here.
To see my other stamped spoon projects….click here.