Category Archives: Love

Perfect Moment Monday: Date Night

Perfect Moment Monday is more about noticing a perfect moment than about creating one. Perfect moments can be momentous or ordinary or somewhere in between.

We gather here once a week to engage in mindfulness about something that is right with our world. Everyone is welcome to join. Details on how to participate are at the bottom of this post, complete with bloggy bling.

Please visit the links of the participants at the bottom.

Here’s a perfect moment from my week. I hope you’ll share yours, too.
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On Friday night I got gussied up (make-up even!) and dropped the kids off at a Girl Scout fundraiser called Parents Night Out. I met Roger at a restaurant called Mojitos (yum!) and we had 5 hours together sans responsibilities.

We charmed each other and spoke wittily about our observations of the week we’d each experienced, he out in the world and I closer to home. After enjoying our Cuban cuisine, we walked to the adjacent art theater to see the French film Summer Hours. It was exactly the kind of date we would have had on a leisurely Friday night at the turn of the century, before kids. We felt a decade younger.

Except that we had a hard time staying awake until the end of the movie.

Still, we’ll take the perfection as well as the imperfection. Sometimes I can’t even tell the difference.

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When a ride in a Wienermobile ISN’T the high point of your day

Part 1
Roger and I had met only a month prior, but it felt like the real thing and we’d started talking casually about getting serious.

One night at my home, a show comes on TV about the World’s Best Wedding Proposals. Roger looks at me and says, “I bet you expect me to come up with something really great.”

I say, “Of course I do.”

Part 2
A month or so later, we are Mile High Stadium several hours before the game. Working with my sister’s organization on the Red Ribbon Campaign, we are collecting money to prevent teen substance abuse. It’s several hours before kick-off and no one is passing by to put quarters in my can, so I take a break to do some sleuthing.

I ask an official-looking security guard, “What do I need to do to get a message up on the scoreboard?”

“Come with me,” he beckons, and takes me into the bowels of the old Mile High Stadium. We end up in some sort of control room.

A woman with headphones on tells me I need 2 weeks notice to get something up. I explain to her my plan, and she says, “In that case, just write down what you want and make a check out to the city for $50.”

I do.

Part 3
Before the game, we get to ride around the field in on the Oscar Meyer Wienermobile. The baloney company is also a Red Ribbon sponsor, and my sister is something of a mucky-muck in the campaign. Inside are my sisters, their husbands, and my guy and me. And the head cheese driver.

Can you guess what songs we sing as we ride around the stadium? We wish we were a certain brand of wieners that everyone is in love with, and that our names were spelled a certain way.

Part 4
During halftime my sisters have strict instructions to keep Roger in his seat. My announcement will be up for only 30 seconds.

That’s not a problem, since he is fixated on the Punt, Pass and Kick competition among a couple dozen 8 year-olds on the field. In fact, when we DO try to get him to look at the scoreboard, he is slightly annoyed at missing Little Jimmy’s punt.

But he does look up in time, to see this on the DiamondVision:

“Roger Luz: Score with me forever. Will you marry me? Lori”

He looks at me. He looks at it. He looks at me. He looks at it.

He tells me later that this is what he was thinking:

“Oh, wow! Someone else here has the same name I do!”

“And, wait! He ALSO has a girlfriend named Lori. Out of 70,000 people, what are the odds?” [OK 1 in 69,999].

“Ummmm. I think that’s me. Is that me? Do you mean ME?”

We lock eyes and he says “yes.” My sisters and their husbands have, by now, let all the people around us know what’s happening. There is a loud cheer in our section.

We leave sometime during the 3rd quarter and float home. Seriously, I don’t remember walking to the car or driving it to my home. Just an elated, ethereal sensation. I now understand the term, “walking on air.”

The Broncos beat the Browns. This is in the Wade Phillips days, and that is an accomplishment.

Part 5
I am friends with the Bill Husted, gossip columnist for the Rocky Mountain News (now with the Denver Post. I call him the next day to tell him what happened.

He is less impressed with the fact that I proposed than he is amused by Roger’s reaction.

He puts the story in his column later that week, poking fun at Roger. Just a little.

Part 6
The Associated Press picks up the story. A friend of mine in Chicago calls to see if that was ME mentioned at the tail end of her local news. My grandma hears “the rest of the story” on Paul Harvey. And we get a dozen calls from morning-drive DJs around the country wanting to tease Roger on air for not quite getting that he was being proposed to.

We accept a half-dozen shows (for posterity; we have cassette tapes of them). Roger becomes increasingly irritated at the inanity of the DJs. He bests them each time with his superior wit and intelligence. So there.

Fast forward
Happy 14th anniversary of our engagement today, Roger. Score with me forever?

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Show & Tell: Kid Clint and the pivotal burrito

“Find out,” I told my friend, Don, “find out what you can about that guy with the blue eyes.”

Don was the teacher of my Improvisational Comedy class. In addition, he was my contract employee, since I had hired him to teach the class for the adult learning network I ran in the mid 1990s.

One of the perks of my job was that I got to interview all the teachers and observe a 15 minute teaching demonstration of their classes. I also got to attend any class in our 64-page catalog, which we published 8 times a year. My areas of expertise became broad as the Great Plains and deep as its topsoil during the Great Depression.

I’d been spending my Saturday nights in the lower level of a bar where Don’s improv troupe performed. A team of 15 players rotated 5 in and out each week, and several times I’d caught this very cute 20-something guy with piercing blue eyes. A guy who didn’t always resort to the easy laughs one gets with crotch humor (Halloooo, google pervs!).

In fact, this guy proffered very literate humor. As a business major, I recognized but didn’t “get” his references to Dante and Melville, to Cervantes and Scorsese. I just knew he was smart and funny. And had gorgeous eyes.

Hence my request to Don.

“What, exactly, would you like me to find out for you?” asked Don the Monday after a show.

“Just the important things,” I replied. “Find out if he’s single, if he’s straight, and if he’d like to meet me.” (It was, after all, the theatah.)

On Thursday, Don called with three answers: yes, yes and yes. And that the troupe was to perform at a street festival Saturday afternoon.

That day we had a brief hailstorm during which I subjected my sister, Tami, to witnessing a trying-on of my entire closet. I hadn’t told her why I cared so much about my appearance.

The clouds finally cleared and we headed to the festival. We found the stage (really just a blocked-off intersection) and watched the street performance, where Blue Eyes ended up playing Clint Eastwood as a kid. On his bare knees in the middle of the street. With a lit cigarette hanging out his mouth.

Don had told Blue Eyes about me. In fact, while offstage, Don pointed our way and said to him, “Remember I told you about the girl who wanted to meet you?”

“Yeah,” said my prey.

“See that girl over there?” Don said. “Oh, yeaaaaah,” Blue Eyes said, appreciatively.

Don was pointing at my sister. My very BUXOM sister.

“It’s the tall woman behind her,” Don finished. “Hmmmmm,” was the response, with perhaps an equally approving head nod (I’ll never know, will I?).

We angled to meet each other after the show. After some misses, we ended up at the same burrito booth at the same time.

Extending a hand that bore a wrapped burrito, he said “Hi, Lori. Don has told me about you. I’m Roger.”

With that, our fate was sealed. 14 years ago this week.

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More Show & Tell at Mel‘s.

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