Fifty years is a long time and there just seems like there’s something special about fifty. It’s only one more than forty-nine, but forty-nine is just a number — fifty is special. Well, today, we made it to fifty. No, we haven’t been married for fifty years — that won’t happen until May. But fifty years ago tonight, Claire and myself went on our first official date.
Both regular readers know by now that we went to the Merriweather Post Pavilion and saw Blood, Sweat and Tears — and we chose that place because it was far enough away from Washington to provide a less chaotic setting for a date. So here we are, 50 years later and we still wouldn’t go on a date in Washington but we’ve managed to survive all sorts of natural and man-made catastrophes and turmoil over the years.
To say that the past 50 years have been good to us would ge a gigantic understatement. I recently read an article about the rising number of couples over 50 calling it quits — the article referred to them as “gray divorces,” and indicated that they now account for 25 percent of couples separating. I guess that “until death do you part” thing doesn’t apply anymore.
So 50 years ago tonight, on Friday the 13th, Jimmy and Claire’s relationship started — and tonight, on Friday the 13th, we’ll toast to those fifty years. Who said Friday the 13th was unlucky?
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