On Choosing a Life Partner
“We waste time looking for the perfect lover instead of creating the perfect love.”
—Tim Robbins—
Pop won me in a drinking contest . . .
Camp Starlight was a huge camp of 400 campers situated in the middle of the beautiful Poconos on a good sized lake called Lake Starlight. It was divided into two groups of cabins - the girls side and the boys side. In each cabin lived about 12 campers with two counselors. The children were ages 6-16 and came from old money families from NYC. I arrived a few days before the campers arrived to help set up the clinic and brush up on my first aid skills. Each day a few more college aged counselors would arrive from various parts of the country as well as England. Camp Starlight recruited college students from England who would come over for the eight weeks of camp and then use the money they made to travel around the U.S. before returning home. As with any place with a large group of people 19-25 years old we were of course checking each other out from day one.
I typically am very shy. At that time in my life I had a difficult time talking to guys but I had already decided I was going to make some changes in my life and what better time to work on myself than a place where no one knew me. This was after all the beginning of the adventurous life I had planned for myself. So, over the next couple of days I tried to find opportunities to talk to the other counselors.
The evening before the campers arrived, all of the counselors met together for an informational session followed by a trip to Mike’s Modern Bar, a dive in the center of town. At the bar a long table had been set up where about 20-30 of us gathered to have our last party before we started our 8 weeks of forced intimacy with 400 campers. I had strategically placed myself at one end of this table next to Sean, one of the guys I was interested in pursuing for my summer fling. There was a lot of laughing and activity at the other end of the table when Sean turned to me and said, “You know what they’re doing, don’t you?” I said, “Ah, No.” Quite frankly I didn’t want to know what they were doing, I was too busy trying my best to flirt with Sean.
On the other end of the table were Pop and Pete. Pop and Pete were in one of the cabins together. They were to be the two counselors for the 6-8 year old cabin. Pop was the water safety instructor from Ohio and Pete was one of the English counselors. They knew each other from past summers and had driven to the bar that night together. On the way, they had discussed which of the young women they were interested in. Turns out they had both decided I was the one they wanted to get to know. Knowing they had to live together for the summer and needed to get along they decided that one of them could ask me out and should I agree the other would stay out of the way. If I did not agree, then the other could give it a try. Herein lies the problem. Who would get to be the first to ask me out. Pete suggested whoever chugged a beer faster but Pop in his infinite wisdom said, “She’s worth way more than a beer, how about we chug a pitcher.” And that is exactly what they were doing at the other end of the table.
I didn’t know if I should be flattered or offended. Regardless, I have never been the prize in any kind of contest so I thought I better pay attention. They were equally attractive to me so I had no opinion as to which way I wanted it to go. Amid much laughter and cheering, Pop won the beer chugging contest and after a few minutes of back slapping and good luck wishes he headed down to my end of the table. He sat across from me and started chatting. Eventually he got around to asking me out. Knowing that I was the “trophy” in a beer drinking contest did not help his case and I was not going to go easily. So I told him that I would go out with him if he knew more dirty jokes than I did. And so it began. We took turns telling dirty jokes until finally Pop had no more to offer. Although, to this day, he will tell you he had plenty more, he just didn’t know how tasteless he could get. He had worked quite hard to get this date so I agreed to go out with him figuring it could be a nice summer fling before I headed out to San Francisco.
Pop was tall and handsome, definitely my type. He also was an Eagle Scout, a sailor, a lifeguard and the water safety instructor at the Camp. He was very kind and had a great sense of humor. As we started dating and spending more time together I got to know the less obvious aspects of his personality.
One evening after attending a movie we were pulling out of the parking lot and Pop’s car broke. I don’t remember exactly what happened but there was a loud noise and it was obvious something was wrong. Without a word, showing no anger, no frustration, no humble apology, he pulled the car over, got out and opened his trunk. He pulled out and proceeded to put on a jumpsuit that looked like the kind gas station guys wear. Next out was a cookie can full of every size of nut and bolt you can imagine and a very large tool box. He then proceeded to slide under the car and work away, digging through his can of nuts and bolts, never saying a word. Not 5 or 10 minutes later, he shimmied back out from under the car and put his toolbox and cookie can back in his trunk. He climbed out of his jumpsuit and returned it to the trunk and away we went. It occurred to me then that this is a guy who #1 doesn’t get angry easily, #2 takes problems as they come and just deals with them and #3 is handy!!
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One of our first “official” dates was a trip to New York City. We had gone to a play on Broadway, “Barnum”, I believe, and when we stepped out of the theatre it was pouring rain. A group of women were huddled under the awning and their men were standing on the curb trying to wave down a taxi. Well, Pop stepped off of the curb and into the street, put two fingers to his mouth and gave a loud whistle. Everyone in the immediate vicinity turned to look at him. Just then a taxi drove right up to him, he opened the door and we both got in and drove away. Oh, I was so impressed! Here was a man who could take care of his woman!! To this day I feel well cared for. I know he wants more than anything to take care of me not because I can’t take care of myself but because he loves me, cherishes me and wants me to be happy.
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A few months into our relationship I accidentally lost a few of his most prized photo slides. I had borrowed them to copy and simply lost them. I felt horrible. This was back before computers and they could not be replicated. I apologized over and over. I kept waiting for him to blow up at me, yell at me, make me feel bad. But he didn’t. I finally asked him why? Why didn’t he just yell at me and get it over with? His response is still with me. He said “Laura, I couldn’t possibly make you feel any worse than you are already making yourself feel.” Wow! I knew I had to marry this guy! I had never dated someone so rational, someone so forgiving, someone who understood that getting angry with me was not going to fix the problem and would only make me feel worse. It was too good to be true!
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We met in June, moved in together in August, got engaged in January and married in September. If any of you boys after only six months introduced me to someone and told me you were engaged I would probably think to myself “uh-oh”. When Pop and I got married we had only known each other for a year. Pop brought out the best in me — a sense of adventure, motivation, self discipline, joy and laughter. I figured I could become the best “me” being with him.
Marriage is a curious thing. Choosing a partner for life, someone who will set up residence in my soul, someone who will get to know me over the years better than I know yourself. What a huge responsibility, this choice. Not only a responsibility to the person making the choice but to the person I have chosen. The trust involved is immeasurable on both parts. What an honor to be chosen by someone to be that person in their life.
Your Pop and I have been happily married for 40 years and have had an exceptional and fascinating life raising you boys. It’s been a long, wonderful summer fling. But every once in awhile . . . just for a moment . . . I wonder where I would be if that English counselor, Pete had won that beer chugging contest.