The Beginning
5/27/06

Well I did it. Last night (5/26/06) I popped the question. What follows is a first-hand account of a wedding in the 21st century.

I guess I should start at the beginning. I will spare you the mundane details, but in all fairness, my relationship with the bride-to-be has been anything but mundane since day 1.


"The Proposal"

I admit, this proposal wasn't exactly written for a movie co-starring Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, but perhaps this script could have scored some B-list celebrities. (like that Kristin chick from "Laguna Beach" and that Jared guy from all those Subway commercials) Yeah, I could just see it now... a made for TV movie, airing on the WB. Check your local listings.

For those of you who chose not to tune in, it went a little something like this. While I had always known that one day I would ask "Kristin" to marry me, I must admit, there was something very spontaneous about how the actual asking went down. I imagine the best way to tell the story, requires backtracking about a week's time. So if you will, let's rewind the week, like something out of a Quentin Tarantino movie. (minus the unnecessary blood baths, and bad John Travolta haircuts --though now that i think of it, Travolta could have definitely made an unforgetable cameo appearance in my WB movie as "Air Tran Airways Employee #2")

It is now Tuesday, 5/23/06, and I was on my way to buy what most cultures today refer to as "Bling". Unfortunately, my knowledge of bling is limited to what I have learned from Nelly & the St. Lunatics, but educated consumer or not, I was on a mission. It's amazing what adrenaline will do for you. Like, have you ever been jonesin' for a crunch wrap supreme from Taco Bell? Despite the fact that it's 9:30 on a Sunday morning, and Fr. O'Malley is knee-deep in his homily, which you've stopped listening too once he was finished telling his quasi-humorous opening anecdote. Well, just like Tu Quieres Taco Bell, on Tuesday, yo quiero bling bling. So as of Tuesday, I had the hardware.

It is now Wednesday, 5/24/06, and i was pacing my Chicago apartment, anticipating my call to my future father-in-law. You've all heard of "the call". (not to be confused with my my favorite Backstreet Boys song by the same name, a must have for anyone's ipod.) Rather, this call, is when Mission Control calls Houston, requesting the "go/no go" for launch. It's an age old tradition, which, after a few minutes research on askjeeves.com, I learned, was developed by the National Association of Intimidating Fathers of Girlfriends Across America, circa 1946, for the sole purpose of watching us boyfriends squirm. I'm convinced, this organization convenes for weekly meetings, sharing stories of how they reduced their future in-laws to dust, over stogies and expensive whiskey. Despite my fears, however, the call went well, thus 24 hrs after the bling purchase, I now had the go from Mission Control.

It is now Thursday, 5/25/06, and for all intents and purposes I had passed the point of no return. All that was left to do now was plan how the magic would happen. Knowing what guy I wasn't... "the sport stadium proposal guy"... "the ring in the chocolate cake guy"... "the box inside of a box inside of a box guy"... I actually found it difficult to decide. Then it came to me...

Friday, 5/26/06... Of course, it literally takes planes, trains and automobiles to reach my bride-to-be. (again, i stress, nothing about my relationship is mundane.) Despite it being Memorial Day weekend, and my beloved yet currently victory-challenged Chicago Cubs hosting their infamous 1:20 day game, I had reached Chicago's Midway Airport in record time on Friday afternoon. Most people who fly to Chicago choose to use O'hare. Infact, Midway is like the kids table at the Chicago Thanksgiving dinner, where it's the same food, only you have to use the plastic dishes and folding chairs. Waiting at Gate A4B (which actually just sunk my battleship), was just like those folding chairs... except, sans the chairs. But it wasn't the sans chairs that bothered me most about this trip. It was the sans plane. That's right... my flight (originally scheduled to depart at 5:40pm) was now scheduled to depart at 7:10pm. In "about to propose time" that's roughly a 37-year delay.

But 37 years later, I landed in MN, local time 9:00pm. With reservations at the Melting Pot for 9:30pm, I finally realized what it felt like to be a Domino's Pizza delivery man. Propose in 30 minutes or less? Or should I simply deliver the pizza tomorrow? Some people, when they face adversity... will shy away. If i was one of those people, I would have gone home 4 years ago, when my bride moved to Italy for 6 months. Or i would have gone home 2 years ago, when she took a job in Milwaukee and I took a job in Chicago. Or i would have gone home last year when she moved to Minneapolis. No sir... adversity is my middle name.

By 9:27 I had slipped the ring on her finger, with 3 minutes to spare. By 9:31 we were toasting above the 7 roses (which had now turned to potpouri) on our table. 7 roses, symbolic of 2007, the year in which Jared Adversity Focker will be lucky enough to finally wed his Kristen. If you think this story was crazy... stick around... it's bound to be one helluva ride.

(scheduled to depart out of Midway... gate BYOB... trust me... you'll probably need it)