Mountain Musings


We’ve Only Just Begun


It seems like yesterday that I hooked-up with my “child bride.” Well, she was five years younger than I at the time, still is, in fact. But, no, it was 48 years ago on August 25 that I married my college sweetheart at a fancy church wedding. Like a lot of weddings back in the day, the first song played by the organist was one made popular by Karen and Ken Carpenter.


“We’ve only just begun to live. White lace and promises, a kiss for luck and we’re on our way. We’ve only just begun.” (“We’ve Only Just begun” – The Carpenters – 1970)


Our marriage seems like kind of an anomaly… I mean, how many couples even bother to tie the knot these days, let alone keep it tied for 48 years? According to the latest stats, more than 50 percent of marriages end in divorce. So, what’s the secret to our success? Maybe it was the pizza.


Here’s how it all began… when Rhea-Frances showed up for a free pizza I was giving away to the first caller on my college radio show, it was love at first bite… she came for the pizza and stayed for the next 48 years. But first she had to pass the test… she had to be able to cook.


Accepting the challenge, she came over to my pad to cook a dinner I would never forget. It was spaghetti and meatballs by candlelight. Needless to say, she passed the test with flying colors, even though I learned later that it was the ONLY thing she knew how to cook. “Stop kicking me under the table, precious.”


“Before the rising sun we fly, so many roads to choose. We start out walking and we learn to run. And yes, we’ve just begun.”


And you’ll never guess what I got her for an anniversary present, something she’s always wanted, a brand spankin’ new microwave oven. Now she can cook up all those yummy TV dinners. And you should have seen the look on her face. But I learned my lesson after a week of sleeping in the doghouse.


Some women just don’t get it. I mean it’s more practical than the chain saw I got her for Mother’s Day. She didn’t appreciate that one either, but it did come in handy for cutting all those tree limbs within six feet of the ground, the ones the fire marshal doesn’t appreciate… back to the doghouse.


Well, her birthday’s coming up soon, so I’m going to get her something even more practical – a brand spankin’ new ironing board. Can’t go wrong there; it’s something all women need and adore.


“And when the evening comes we smile, so much of life ahead. We’ll find a place where there’s room to grow…” Yeah, like room to grow old in the doghouse. Just kidding folks, except for the part about the pizza and spaghetti, which was real.


Keep it flyin’, Uncle Mott