The future wife and I spent the weekend knee deep in errands for the impending nuptials, so we decided to take it easy on Saturday night, throw back some Fat Tires and watch Peter Jackson’s King Kong. At first I was smitten with the film, enjoying the mindless action, the undertones of bestiality and watching Naomi Watts scream and run about in her moist camisole. The movie than degenerated into a never ending orgy of agony as the final hour dragged on like an introductory statistics course and I found myself wishing Kong would plummet to his death from the Empire State Building like the stupid primate he was. Thanks for taking the mantle from Spike Lee on not knowing how to end a film, Peter Jackson. The future wife tried to keep steam from blowing out of my ears by cheering for Naomi’s naked breasts to make an appearance for the sake of my sanity. Alas, it was not to be. I reminded her that epic blockbusters historically never show the naughty bits and that if I wanted to see Naomi’s exposed fun bags I would watch 21 Grams. Unfortunately one has to endure a nude Sean Penn, a soul crushing plot and a depressing sex scene for the pay off, but I think it is worth it. At least it is not Monster’s Ball. Or Requiem For A Dream.
I took a brief hiatus from the MB to travel to Glenwood Springs and get engaged. I apologize that the site has been as barren as an old Hebrew woman’s womb and I was unable to satisfy your lust for links about high school girls fighting and Whitney Houston entering rehab for the second time. On with the magical engagement story.
The now future wife was under the impression we would be enjoying a relaxing three-day holiday in Glenwood Springs, Colorado. She was unaware that I had been plotting for months to drop the engagement hammer on her during the trip. Thanks to my ninja-like discipline, I managed to keep the entire engagement process a secret and accomplished the following tasks without her knowledge:
- Shopping, purchasing and hiding the ring.
- Asking her parents for their blessing.
- Keeping the many individuals involved in Operation Engagement Hammer quiet and maintaining radio silence.
Operation Engagement Hammer began on March 23 as we set out for Glenwood early in the morning. Being as I was a nervous wreck and only had gotten a total of two hours sleep the night before I had to stop for a large colon-destroying latte to keep me going.
We made it to Glenwood in two and half hours and arrived at the historic Hotel Colorado, a place that has hosted the likes of Teddy Roosevelt, William Howard Taft, Al Capone and Patrick Swayze. Our check in time was at four o’clock, so we decided to hit the head and then hit one of the many snowshoe trails surrounding Sunlight Mountain (11 miles outside of Glenwood proper).
The weather was miserable; it was spitting rain, snow and hail and the sky was overcast. By the time we hit the trail head, I was a nervous wreck and the weather was set to ruin a component of Operation Engagement Hammer. I checked my pocket where the ring was for the umpteenth time and then I started freaking myself out. Did I remember to put the ring in the box before we left the house? Did I ever take the ring out of the box? Did I put on deodorant this morning?
Operation Engagement Hammer had to succeed. I have never been this happy with anyone. I knew from the beginning that my now future wife was the one. She understands that I am a perverted, beer-swilling bastard that enjoys pornography, hockey, books about war and depressing, soul-crushing documentaries on HBO about crack addicts in love (thanks for the referral on that one, Gary) and she is alright with it. In fact, in spite of all that, she still makes me muffins and is sweet to me.
The trail grew strenuous and the ring began weakening me like Frodo Baggins in Modor. After awhile, the clouds broke and the sun came out. I started looking for a good spot to implement the final phase of Operation Engagement Hammer. A voice that sounded like R. Lee Ermey started screaming in my head: “Quit playing grab-ass and do it now, soldier.”
As I started questioning my sanity (my inner-monologue was shouting at me like an angry drill sergeant and I felt that was reason enough to evaluate things) the now future wife found the spot for me. “Look Matty! Look how beautiful the view is!” I look out to the where she was pointing and she was right. The view was amazing.
The sun was now unobstructed by clouds and the wind had stopped blowing. The moment of truth had arrived. I dropped to my knee, fumbled in my pocket and said, “Will you marry me?” The now future wife stood there, dumbstruck. She did not see it coming. Operation Engagement Hammer had achieved total surprise. It took her a few minutes of convincing that I was serious. “You can say yes anytime, honey,” I said. The realization of the moment finally hit her and she started jumping around. “Yes, Matty! Yes!”
I do not remember much from the rest of the hike except for a wonderful feeling of euphoria. I know that she is the one I will be spending the rest of my life with and the fact this does not scare me nor keep me awake at nights is the reason why it is right. By the time we made it back to the car, the now future wife was more excited than a kid off of her Ritalin on Christmas morning. We spent the rest of our week in Glenwood relaxing in the hot springs, getting massages, visiting Doc Holliday‘s grave, walking hand-in-hand and generally being all stupid in love.
On our last night in Glenwood, I had a wonderful dream of her and I, many years from now, our eyesight failing, wearing adult diapers and bragging to each other about our new plastic hips and bowel movements but still very much in love.
During the two and half hour car ride home, I grinned ear-to-ear as she planned most of our wedding. Goddman, I love that girl.