Okie Lassos Red Head with Vintage Gold

Some people will say I jumped.

A man's man would say, technically, I've been hanging ten on a platform for years; wiggling my toes and peering down into murky waters, which has been churning -- waiting to expunge the "male freedom" from my being.

I don't think so.

On May 29, 2008 I asked Tricia to marry me. The date marked our six-year anniversary. The answer had been thumping away in the back of my mind. I knew she would say something along the lines of yes. I guess precaution is inherent though because without consciously planning it, I sat her on a small row boat and asked her in the middle of a bay. She could have said no, but why would she in that sort of situation...there would be no running away.


The only jumping that crossed my mind was a desire to leap into her lap. Of course that would have proved awkward considering the boat's inability to keep afloat two adults on one side. We would have flipped.

I kept my cool and the entire experience worked out perfectly.

I had asked her father for his permission roughly a year ago. We were walking back to our hotel on Mackinac Island in Michigan. Darrell, her father, said something similar to, "Well, yeah! Of course you can."

So many plans surged through my mind. My first plan sort of fell into the "Initially Create Pain" category, because categories for marriage proposals exist. I wanted to force her to hike four days to Machu Picchu. The hike would have included minimal food, outdoor fecal shooters (pooping into a hole you dig), bugs and stressful climbs. But in the end I would have remedied the situation by presenting the ring. Right? Hmm....

The second plan included a trip to New Zealand, but I thought of that during a moment of unclarity, a moment when I thought I had money. Sometimes I do that. I just decide to be rich for a few minutes. The event usually happens when I'm tipping people. "Ah, the food was rancid, but the drinks were great. Here's 50 percent on top of the bill."

My sister had called me a few months ago. She heard I was hunting a ring. My first plan was to find a family heirloom, but if that didn't work I would have visited a jeweler. Michelle, my little sister, indulged interesting information. She had inherited a ring from our Aunt Sissy a while ago. Aunt Sissy inherited it from our Great Grandmother Katherine. Michelle planned to hand it down to her daughter, but she gave birth to two boys. On the phone she informed me of her decision to quit populating the Earth and asked if I would like to have the ring. I appreciatively accepted.


The moment rapidly approached.

I sent reservations off for a hotel in Morro Bay. We would have left early on May 29 and stayed for the weekend. I intended to place a knee in the sand while walking along Avila Beach since we enjoyed visiting the place sometime last year. But then Tricia made complete and horrible sense when she said, "Why don't we just save the money and use it for our Seattle/Portland trip in June?"

Damn.

I canceled the Central Coast trip and continued stroking my chin. Finally I thought of Willem Falls, our 9.5 foot yacht hugging our wall in the back yard.

Perfect.

"John is it OK that I work on Thursday?"

That was the day. Shit. "Until what time?"

"Oh probably around 7 p.m."

I said sure thinking we would successfully row out onto Alamitos Bay in time for the sun to set.

Finally, the boat was launched. We had red wine and music. A Pinback CD whirled feverishly. I rowed over to the dock at Gondola Getaway to pick her up. Our friend Greg was working.

She almost invited Greg along for the ride.

AHHHH!!!

Luckily he was on his way home. No offense, it would have been great to hang out and guzzle wine with a couple of my favorite people, but the timing was indecent.

We made it. We were drifting in the middle of the bay. The sun had set, but the chemical glow still lingered. I started with a speech that would have made a man's man lose his lunch then kick me in the groin. Then I pulled it out.

The ring.

Sickos.

She said yes.