The last two years, Ive bounced around time like a drunken Billy Pilgrim, tangled in the cinnamon sugar tethers of my past and coming to terms--through nights of writing with sake and gin--that growing old alone isnt nearly the romantic poet scene my barstool visions claimed. Responsible for my slow revelation is Jennifer Peterson, the one at the other end of those tethers, the one who almost got away. This weekend, Jennifer and I celebrated our anniversary of reconnecting after almost twenty years of getting on with our lives. We returned to the dinner spot of our reunion, Bella Napoli. That March night in 2012, she had lasagna and I had gnocchi while a corner troubadour serenaded us with Cant Take My Eyes Off You. Its 2014 and we still laugh at Tim Conway skits and have philosophical conversations about Big Stars Third. She checks my pulse and I give her dune buggy rides. Shes my Nancy Sinatra and Im her Lee Hazlewood with Leonard Cohen envy. Happy anniversary, Jennifer Peterson. Heres to remaining unstuck in time together forever.
Posted on: Mon, 31 Mar 2014 02:04:45 +0000
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