11 years ago, at a place called Orlando Gardens off Watson Road in St. Louis, I married my wife Rachel. I was 23 years old, mostly clueless but sure about one thing. I loved this woman and everything else would sort itself out. That’s life. It doesn’t give you all the answers early on but when a beautiful tough and resilient five foot three inch lady stands in front of you, you get down on a fucking knee.

Around 15 years ago(add a few months to that), I proposed to my wife at a Dave Matthews Band concert. In a haze of reefer and great music, I decided to pop the question. I didn’t have a ring. Only a promise. As Dave played “Where Are You Going”, I took his lead and asked her a question. When you pop the question at a young age, nerves and uneasiness crawl up inside your body like insurgents. Most people fail because they do it to fix something in their life. Some do it because it’s cool. Others watch too many movies. I did it because I wanted to spend some time with this woman. The girl that burned a hole in my back outside Hatch Hall at Mizzou. The girl who left a note on my dorm room door asking me when I was going to ask her out(I was working the manual scoreboard that weekend!). (more…)