Perfect Day Pt. 49

Forty-nine years ago we had some out of town guests at our apartment on Dartmouth. We partied and Rich and Steve slept on the floor. Norm and Pam probably stayed out at Norm’s parents. Dave and Kim probably stayed out with his parents. Jim and Jan stayed at a hotel. All traveled from Bloomington, Indiana to celebrate our wedding with us. Three of Peggi’s high school friends came from Detroit. Brad and John Gilmore and Bob were all living here. We had a non-denominational service at Colgate Divinity School chaple and then a reception at the University Club on Broadway. We hired a Dixieland band that we had heard in a funky bar on Lake Avenue. We tied the knot after a few years of cohabitating.

I quit my job a few days before the wedding. I was working as a carpenter, roughing new houses, for about a year and a half. My boss, Salvatore Caramana, couldn’t believe that I was quitting before getting married. “Who quits their job before getting married?” I did miss that job. It was so intense, a three man crew framing houses in three days. Someone would call out “wall going up” and we’d drop everything and help lift a new wall. One of us would always go to a deli and bring back lunch. Sal always wanted “butt capicola.” “Make sure you tell them butt capicola, no oil, no mayo.” He would put that down with Genny Cream Ale from his truck and follow it up with a Lucky Strike. We took a three week honeymoon and I found a commercial art job.

We celebrated our anniversary by taking a walk with our niece and two of her kids. They were in town from Colorado. We had some lunch and then went down to the pool. I taught the youngest how to do a can opener.

Peggi and I went downtown for the Good Trouble protest. We stopped in to see my sister working behind the jewelry counter in Parkleigh. We parked at the end of Monroe and joined a big group at Parcel 5. A dj was playing music and then a few people gave a a pep talk of sorts. The group then marched down Main Street to State and then up to the big parking lot where this John Lewis mural is. There was a pretty good drum section pounding out rhythms behind chants like “This is what democracy looks like.” And then some fiery speakers. The group took a different route back to Parcel 5. I thought was a nice touch.

From there Peggi and I walked over to Rocco’s, our favorite restaurant. We sat out on the patio and had a bottle of Primitivo wine, octopus and pesto, grilled radicchio and gnocchi with ricotta, trumpet mushrooms and lamb. Mark, the owner told us the meal was on him. Our waitress said, “It doesn’t get any better than that.” And then added, “or maybe it will later on.”

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