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| Dana made this for our wedding gift |
Spring quarter, 1994, standing outside in the evening Sun waiting for the locked door to the pottery class to open. I needed an art credit to help round out my ten-year/two year degree program. Lori Go and I chatted about math class while 8-10 others mingled around. We were all waiting for the teacher to come start night class Pottery 100, some of us were embarrassed by this. As Lorie rambled on about Calculus, a girl wearing a ball cap just over Lorie’s left shoulder filled the background with prettiness. But that was it, just a pretty girl over there. I’m glad I remember the first time I saw her. Because quite frankly, I don’t remember the first time I saw any of you or anyone else for that matter. But I remember her. I focused back to Lorie just as she was interrupted by a hippy dude breaking the crowd to get to the door. Dana Hamilton was that hippy dude and he was a ceramics teacher from Okanogan, Washington. He opened that door to the start of something remarkable for me, I just hadn’t realized it yet.
Clay and chicks. That’s what the class could have been called because Dana and I were the only ‘dudes’ in the class. Lorie and I were good friends and took most of our classes together so we shared
a table. Hat Girl was never too far away. I remember the next 12 weeks trying to impress Hat Girl and it wasn’t with my pottery because I can’t make that. I tried making her laugh without it looking like I was trying. Hers was the only laugh I heard (I hope others laughed because then we just looked like idiots). We still have most of the pottery as symbols of the start of that something remarkable. Our first date was May 5th, 1994…Sorry, I should clear that up for my drunk friends: Cinco de Mayo! It was a class trip walking the First Thursday Art Walk in Seattle. Lorie drove downtown with Hat Girl riding shotgun and I in the back. It turns out; Hat Girl isn’t good with red signs. You’ve seen the red hand denoting you should STOP at a crosswalk? She didn’t look up and ran nose first into my shoulder. Not a big deal, unless she does something weird like sniff me.
“What are you doing?”
“You smell good.”
“That’s Downy. Downy smells good, I smell like Doritos. See that sign? That means “stop.””
Later we were walking through a ceramic shop just browsing the talent. There were perfect pieces in there and they all looked quite expensive. Hat Girl was making shocked faces at Lorie and me as she lifted piece by piece to check prices on the bottom. I walked over to her and pointed all over the shop…
“See those signs with a hand on it and a big red circle with a red line going through the hand? That means “don’t touch.””
She bolted for the door.
Lorie dropped us off at the Highline Community College parking lot next to my car. Hat Girl had a test in some class the next day and she wanted me to help her. She ran to her car, grabbed a text book, and ran back to me where I leaned against the back of my ’84 Camaro (Yes, I was that cool!). She stood right next to me, her shoulder and hip touching me. I melted, but remained totally cool. She turned to the chapter and asked me to read it and see if I understood it. It was a single paragraph, but a text book paragraph so maybe twice as long as this paragraph I’ve just finished writing.
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| Leavenworth |
I have no recollection of what the words were or even what the topic was. I just remember reading it slowly to make the moment last as long as possible. So slowly that I started feeling embarrassed that she must think I’m dumb. I caught her looking at me to see if I was still reading so I grimaced in confusion and moved my finger up the paragraph as if I wanted to re-read and understand better. I could not stop thinking about her shoulder against mine, and her hip pressed platonically against my thigh. It was more than that “first love” feeling, and I’m avoiding the usual words like “electricity” or “warmth.” It was certainly exciting but incredibly comfortable. It felt like it was supposed to be like that; it felt so right.
I’m not the best writer so it’s hard for me to describe that feeling. Some people like all the fluff and exotic words to describe love. Others like succinct statements. However you want to define or describe that feeling the most important part for me is that it has never gone away. I still feel the same way when she touches me now, twenty-two years later. I never believed that feeling could last as long as it has. I had heard of couples saying they still feel the same way they did 50 years ago, but I honestly didn’t believe it. Now that I’ve been living it and certainly enjoying it, I never want to take it for granted because I realize not everyone has it. And that’s my 20th wedding anniversary wish: That every couple could feel the way they did about each other at their highest moment forever. If I knew how to teach that, I would. If I could bottle and sell it, I’d go broke giving it all away. I will say that there is a lot of laughter in our lives with an equal amount of respect for ourselves and each other and we surround ourselves with good people who nurture.
Thank you, Hat Girl, for the best 22 years of my life.
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