A Brief Romantic Blog

This posting is in the response to the requests of both an old friend and of a sweet niece, for whom it could be sub-titled "How I Met Your Aunt Linda." It is the first or second day of school in the fall of 1969 and disturbingly hot in the halls of Chittenango High School. I am sweltering in a sport coat and tie because I believe that is the way a teacher must dress. The 13 English teachers, at least 5 of us newbies, attend the first English department meeting of the year in the upstairs teachers' room. Across from me sits Linda Baker, a lovely brunette in a blue dress. At least, I believe it was blue. I couldn't swear to it. Little do I guess that upon first glance, she doesn't like me. It's because I am wearing a suede sport coat and have a wide leather watch band. She thinks I must be one of those stuck on themselves, cool kind of guys, whom she doesn't care for. Needless to say we do not fall instantaneously in love.

But fortunately, Linda soon forgives me my deer skin jacket. She's very literary, so maybe my coat reminds her of Natty Bumppo. And gradually we fall in love. It helps that we teach ROMEO AND JULIET together to all the ninth graders at Chittenango High School. It helps that many of those ninth graders would choose to play Cupid and urge us together. For example, Sue Matina nee Myers delivers notes to me from Linda. Sue thought that was quite romantic, she reminded us not long ago.

Our love is also fueled by our proximity to each other during the hours off from school. Young teachers hang out together and party together, and there was a bunch of us new teachers, and we were a hanging and partying crew. It took almost 2 years until I asked her, in a cottage on Oneida Lake, to marry me, and a year later we were married and went honeymooning on Cape Cod. In the years that have followed we probably have been back to Cape Cod 100 times. Maybe more. We go back to the Cape for a little renewal, I guess, although I don't think we really need it. We always seem to be new to each other. Let me cite one of my favorite lines from OUR TOWN. On the morning of his son's wedding, Doc Gibbs admits to his wife that when they got married, "I was afraid we weren't going to have material for conversation more'n'd last us a few weeks. I was afraid we'd run out and eat our meals in silence. That's a fact. You and I have been conversing for 20 years now without any noticeable barren spells." For Linda and me, it has been 37 and 1/2 years.