If you also consume the Wednesday version of this stuff in the newspaper pages of the Bulletin of Norwich, you're in the wrong place or in the right place depending on how you feel about other than local election stuff.
The newspaper and its online reflection of the paper product will have all of whatever it is I write about on Wednesdays, assuming I remembered to write it in the first place and then turned it into a long-suffering staff at the newspaper who must be wondering why the previous folks in charge brought me aboard.
Today, here, is Wayback Wednesday most especially to this date in 1977 at 1020 in the morning when Sigrid Schubert and I were married. Wow.
How lucky can one guy get, eh? I've never known what she saw or sees in me (aside from a great personality, rapier-like wit complementing a puckish sense of humor, a body like Adonis (Joey Adonis from West Orange near Prospect Plains), all hobbled by a nearly crippling sense of modesty that is my lifelong cross to bear; oh, and delusions, almost forgot those) but she is my entire world.
She is everything I have wanted to be or to do and she makes me a better man by knowing that she loves me, often despite who I am. I can remember the most minute of details of that day and have driven her and both of our adult children almost to distraction by recounting them incessantly AND on an annual basis, so I'll skip them here, but they know what will happen, just not when.
I hope with all my heart wherever in this world you find yourself that you also have and keep someone who will hold your heart forever as she has mine. I don't remember enough to tell her I love her though I will today and vow to be better every day we have together for all the days that remain. Happy Anniversary, angel eyes.
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
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