Tomorrow I will be celebrating 25 years of marriage to my wife, my friend, the coolest person I ever met: Anne Lynn Wagner.

We met standing in line at the Lakewood Mall theater for Star Trek III, The Search for Spock. Confession: I never can remember WHICH Star Trek movie it was, but for the sake of the story, it doesn't really matter, ok? Anyway, I was fresh in the US Navy, where I'd run away from life to straighten up my act (still working on that, by the way). The USS Rentz (FFG 46) was being built at the Long Beach Naval Station shipyards and I was going to be a plankowner. I owned a Yamaha Riva scooter that I bought during the one year, after graduating UCLA, from my lucrative wages while I was a systems analyst (remember, I was running away from all of that). Anne, and her friend, Loretta Paz, were in line behind me. It was still a VERY popular movie which sold out on weekends often enough that you had to show up (in LA) a few hours in advance to get seats. They were discussing whether or not to go to a nearby (walking distance) bookstore to buy a copy of the paperback of the movie (hah!) and I said, "I'll save your spots." When they came back (with said book spilling all the secrets of the movie) I asked if I could sit with them and they acquiesced to my boyish charms.

Good movie by the way.

So we watched the movie, and even if I can't remember which one, I remember liking it. It had something to do with Spock and Kirk and aliens and space travel, I think. After it was over, we three decided to go to a nearby Marie Calendars (walking distance - all part of the Lakewood, CA mall area) to chat.

At which point I remember looking at Anne and hearing a voice (my voice) say, "This is the woman you are going to marry." Given that I regularly hear voices I paid it no heed.

I ordered pecan pie (should have just put a syringe full of sugar in my veins). Eventually, Loretta went to the "head" (that's Navy for "toilet") leaving us alone and Anne and I exchanged phone numbers. I told her I was going to be going out to sea for a couple of weeks (true) and wouldn't be able to contact her (pre-cell phone days - we used smoke signals) until I got back.

I actually assumed that she thought she'd never hear from me again.

But she did.

Our first date, two weeks later, was on my Yamaha Riva scooter. We went to parks. We went on swings. I think we had ice cream (I'm old, I forget). If we didn't have ice cream, we did something sweet and cool like that. Maybe tacos?

We went back to her apartment. I thought it was pretty cool that she lived across the street from where she worked (Rockwell International - she was helping to build the Space Shuttle - was that cool? Hell yes! I was hitting on a rocket scientist!).

She put on the Beatles. Lots of Beatles. We both loved the Beatles. All God's chilluns loves the Beatles.

Then she put on Ray Manzarek's (keyboardist for The Doors) version of Carmina Burana.

I was blown away. She was smart. She was a rocket scientist working on the Space Shuttle. She liked music I liked. She could introduce me to music I'd never heard that was awesome. She was sweet, kind, deferential, shy, unassuming ... (I'm crying with joy here).

When my voice said "This is the woman you are going to marry" I don't remember feeling great love, joy, or passion (though I did think she was very cute). But now. I was falling in love, head over heels. As I was leaving, I kissed her in a nice, first date kind of way, and held her hand. As I went to turn away she wouldn't let go of my hand.

We've never been apart since (except for all the times we've been apart).

We married at the Camelback Inn in Phoenix, Arizona on August 7, 1985. Jeff Andrus was my best man, Joanne Payton was maid of honor, grandpa Joe was still alive and in attendance. The judge who married us was the most hated Democrat in Arizona (ask me to look him up) and had been "Swift Boated" when he was nominated for the state Supreme Court. His last words in the ceremony were, "You may kiss the groom."

I think it was about 110 degrees, and as we were married the sun was setting and the temperature quickly dropped to about 102.

Annie. Love is complex. I'm amazed you've been able to put up with such a volatile, fragile, imperfect person (me).

I love you.

Happy 25th anniversary!

According to wikipedia: "The traditional medium for the 25th , or silver, anniversary is PVC piping." I am desolate that I was unable to find a PVC piping gift to give you. Instead, I am gifting you an autographed copy of Warja Lavater's William Tell described thus by the French book seller to whom I secretly traveled to Paris and purchased while you were dreaming:

"L'original créé en 1960 ... se trouve en possession de Monsieur et Madame Peter Rübel, Fillmore, California." Limited ed. of 701 copies. This is numbered 571 and signed "Warja Lavater."

Ti voglio.

xoxoxoxo - Raleigh Clayton Goober Muns