How I met my husband fourteen years ago at the Claire de Lune Coffee Lounge

It was a Saturday morning fourteen years ago when I met the man I would marry. I was at the Claire de Lune Coffee Lounge in North Park, San Diego, where I had a scheduled meeting with a man I was working with on a volunteer basis. I saw my future husband walk in wearing sweat pants, a tee shirt, and a baseball cap. (He later told me he was running late and didn’t have time to dress right and do his hair because he also had a meeting with other people in a volunteer organization and had overslept.) I practically bumped into him as we both got in the line to get our coffee and pastry. He said, “HELL-oh!” as if he were gladly surprised to run into me. We did a bit of a dance as to whom should go first. I don’t remember who went first, but the next thing I remember I was stirring my coffee at the condiments bar and he walked up to do the same and said “Good MORNing!” as if he were happy to meet me. We were both in such a rush to get to our respective meetings we didn’t dare exchange names or any further pleasantries; we just left it at that buzzing undercurrent. I swear to God, as I watched him walk to his table, I thought “he would be good for me,” like the lyrics in the song from Evita:

I don’t always rush in like this / 20 seconds after saying hello / Telling strangers I’m too good to miss / If I’m wrong I hope you’ll tell me so / But I think you should know / I’d be good for you / I’d be surprisingly good for you.

I looked over at the table where he sat, and recognized one of the men he was sitting with; in fact, I had that man’s number in my phone. After my meeting, I texted the man and asked him to give my number to the cute guy with the reddish brown hair. I never heard from my mystery man, but I went to a Memorial Day pool party two days later and there he was! I went up to him — or he came up to me — I forget which. I found out his name was Andy, and learned more about what he did for a living and as a volunteer. I got out my sunscreen and he asked me if I would like him to do my back. I said, “You don’t have to… I mean… if you want to… I mean… yes, thank you.” I was so flustered, I was bumbling for the right thing to say. Looking back now, I’m glad I got over my nerves and took him up on his offer. We got to know each other at the party, and after a few hours, when he said he needed to go home and walk his dogs, he asked me what time it was, and I said “time to take me home with you.”

(I never thought about it until just now, but I get annoyed now when he asks me the time, because he does it all the time. Nowadays the answer is sometimes “time for you to get a watch,” but if he hadn’t asked me the time that first day, I wouldn’t have had that clever response, and who knows how I would have made my move? Hm… makes you think… the little things that bug us about our loved ones are what makes them them, and we would miss them if we lost them and their annoying little quirks.)

Well, I’ll just say the rest is history because I don’t want to get too intimate here. And speaking of history, here are a few fun facts about the coffee house where we met, the song that inspired the woman who opened it, and the poem that inspired the song. I Googled it this morning and found out that the correct spelling of the bittersweet song by Debussy is Clair de Lune, which means moonlight, and the song was based on the poem “Clair de Lune” written by another Frenchman, the poet Paul Verlaine (who, coincidentally, had a scandalous love affair with the then seventeen-year-old French poet, Arthur Rimbaud). The reason the coffee house had an e at the end of Clair was that the owner’s name was Claire. I also learned that, sadly, Claire closed her coffee house in February of last year.

Here is the original french text and an English translation of the poem “Clair de Lune”:

Clair de lune

Votre âme est un paysage choisi
Que vont charmant masques et bergamasques
Jouant du luth et dansant et quasi
Tristes sous leurs déguisements fantasques.

Tout en chantant sur le mode mineur
L’amour vainqueur et la vie opportune,
Ils n’ont pas l’air de croire à leur bonheur
Et leur chanson se mêle au clair de lune,

Au calme clair de lune triste et beau,
Qui fait rêver les oiseaux dans les arbres
Et sangloter d’extase les jets d’eau,
Les grands jets d’eau sveltes parmi les marbres.

From Fêtes galantes (1869)

Moonlight

Your soul is like a landscape fantasy,
Where masks and Bergamasks, in charming wise,
Strum lutes and dance, just a bit sad to be
Hidden beneath their fanciful disguise.

Singing in minor mode of life’s largesse
And all-victorious love, they yet seem quite
Reluctant to believe their happiness,
And their song mingles with the pale moonlight,

The calm, pale moonlight, whose sad beauty, beaming,
Sets the birds softly dreaming in the trees,
And makes the marbled fountains, gushing, streaming–
Slender jet-fountains–sob their ecstasies.

And here is the song played in a video “with an animated graphical score”:

There is a bittersweetness to all of this, but as the French say, c’est la vie! At some point, if one of us loses the other, that will be bittersweet too, but the bitterness of the future doesn’t diminish the sweetness of the present. For today, and for the fourteen years we have loved each other, I am blessed.

Aside

Please take time to watch the post just…

Please take time to watch the post just below this one of our legal marriage in CA. This marriage caused no one any harm. No one can hate such a beautiful moment. No one anywhere in the US should fear gay marriage as an affliction on the holiness of matrimony. Any person, straight or gay, deserves equality in this civil society. This evening brings hope to many more Americans.

Video

Third Anniversary of our California Same-sex Marriage

It’s important to recognize that Andy & I were already married by our rabbi on August 8, 2004, in the eyes of God and our close family and friends. Nonetheless, we commemorate today the third anniversary of our “legal” marriage in California on June 21, 2008. California began marrying same–sex couples legally on Tuesday, June 17, 2008, and Andy & I drove Friday night to get to San Diego so we could be married the first day we could. It was not just a political statement, since we were already married and still are, but we did it for political and legal reasons. We went to show California that same–sex couples demanded legal marriage. As it turned out, we were married by a sweet young man who had been deputized for the occasion and was as sympathetic to our cause as can be, and we were blessed to have a few of our closest friends and my mother there to join us. It was, as you can see in the video, a heartfelt, tearful, and joyful occasion. This should not be an ephemeral phenomenon. Same–sex marriage should become legal throughout the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave. It’s way past due.

Daniel and Me had the pleasure to go…

Daniel and Me had the pleasure to go to San Diego and get married the first day of summer June 21, 2008. We wanted to do this as a statement of legally binding our love in a more formal way. The sad part about it is that same sex marriage has been taken away from those that want it now. As the courts fight over weather on not this should be legal, we are a few of the lucky ones that are. Happy Anniversary to my loving husband on this our third year of our legal marriage

Homemade chicken Caesar salad – a product of love

Some people make fun of me for posting photos of my food (my husband included). No, wait– people make fun of me for taking photos of my food. The posting part is beyond belief. Other people say, “I love your food pictures!” Or, “Thanks a lot, Daniel. Now I’m hungry!”

I like taking photos of food because food is beautiful, food is delicious, food is comforting and nourishing. Eating is not being hungry. Eating healthy food is being healthy. A good plate of food is supposed to delight your eye and make your mouth water. A good plate of food is an accomplishment– it means you earned your food, you planned your meal (or improvised it), you prepared (and/or cooked) your food, and you plated it with love and gusto.

This meal was a collaboration between me and my husband. He marinated the chicken while I was at work. After I came home, he grilled the chicken while I soaked some croutons in Caesar dressing, tossed in some bagged romaine lettuce, and shredded some parmegiano reggiano cheese. While I was slicing the rind off part of the cheese, I nicked my thumb and drew a bit of blood (it didn’t get on the food). Andy put a bandage on my thumb and I put it up to his lips so he could “kiss it and make it better.” I smiled and said, “That was almost worth getting a boo-boo for.” And then we ate our meal together.

So I take this photo to celebrate the glory of food, to express thanks for the food I receive, and to remember the love, humor, and partnership that went into making this simple meal. It is a blessing.