4 - Sunday, May 9, 1993 -- North Shore News rance I'M SITTING here at the word processor out in the writ- ing shack in the back yard, trying to decide which gov- ernment to attack, and over what issue, when my wife comes in and gives me a kiss on the forehead, which gen- erally signifies some sort of ritual force at work rather than fust. She’s not supposed to do this, of course. Governments that otherwise might deservedly have fallen, might remain intact. It’s not a thing to tamper with, the revving-up of the Big Guy's psyche into the kill mode, I naturally raise a stern manly eyebrow, pausing mentally just as 1 was about to pounce ona hapless victim. “Our 17th anniversary was a week ago,"’ the Better Half says with a grin, ‘Happy anniversary, darlin’.”” According to this scenario, I should be embarrassed and ashamed for having, as usual, uf- terly forgotten this major event. She, in turn, should be in hys- teria over my failure to demon- strate my husbandly ecstasy over yet another chance to celebrate the awesome moment of our getting together ... way back in time somewhere. But she’s not upset. Rather, sne's pleased with herself. She managed to forget too, you see, And it's harder for her than for me, What with women being told all the time they're supposed to be totally tuned into anniver- saries and such. As the Light of My Life knows so well, | personally regard al! anniversaries, including those marking the births or deaths of the great religious figures, as be- ing inherently morbid. I mean, each year that passes is another notch being carved in the Doomsday Clock of life, witich runs out at midnight at the latest This is something to celebrate? My instirict is to keep my head down in the trenches, and let the birthdays and anniversaries and special days and memorial occa- sions whiz by overhead, if you please. ° NO GIMMICKS — JUST | HONEST HARD WORK BARBARA DAHL pur “BARBIE DOLL?’ TO WORK FOR YOU 983-2518 je: 1st NARROWS STRICTLY PERSONAL Te’s all just an illusion, this pass- ing of time. There is, in fact, on- ly now. With this attitude, no surprise that I have forgotten the 17th an- niversary of the Sacred Union be- tween Her and moi, Intellectually, my Eternally Beloved has never basically given a damn about anniversaries any more than I do. But, as a daugh- ter growing up in a tribe, she found that a big part of the oral tradition was the programming about birthdays and anniversaries. That her tribes «vere Scottish, English and Norwegian made this condition no tess intense than among modern native clans. Less so than among the primitive types, of course. But the reason people still break away from tribes and head out in- to the wilderness on their own is to escape from too many damned celebrations of this, that and the other thing. “The 17th, ch?” I reply, look- ing out the window so I can tell what time of year it is, hoping of al maybe that'll jog something. My confusion has something to do, if | may say so, with the month that we got together — April — being the same month that we got marricd, two years later. Being incurably romantic, both of us think back to the getting- together as the landmark event, not the formality of the wedding itself, fun as it was, It was a great wedding, now that | think about it. It was con- ducted in a little Tibetan Buddhist temple above a shop on 4th Avenue in Kitsilano, on a sunny spring day. I had once been given a blessing by Gywala Karmapa XVI — a guy in his 16th incarnaiion, apparently — and, in the eyes of local monks, this qualified me and my bride for a full-fledged Tibetan Buddhist wedding ceremony, even though we weren’t actually Tibetan Buddhists. There was a bust on the altar of some deity who looked rather like Mr. Spock, and we got to throw the rice at our guests; otherwise neither one of us has aciue about what we agreed to, except that it has somehow worked. There was a wonderful recep- tion in a field in loco later, and we had our picture taken under the tree where my wife had played as a little girl, fantasizing about getting married someday right on that very spot... Oops. Starting to get mushy. 1 can tell from the look in her eye she is, too. . Hey, there we were one minute, congratulating each other on not being the sentimental anniver- - sary-remembering types, and mere minutes later we’re both starting to get lumps in our throats. ‘*You know the anniversary I. remember the most?’’ She Of The Perfect Ear-Lobes asks. J have to shake my head. “It was when we were in the middle of the Burrard Street: Bridge during the peace march 10 years ago. We'd completely forgotten about it back thien, too, th Rae ole Do you enjoy caring for children? ® Would you like to earn some money in your own home? If so, please call ‘us for free advice and available support services to start your own family daycare. sto, gE CHILD CARE-SUPPORT PROGRAM” > i e 2, cHILDeAne RESOURCE SOCtETY 985-2988 | sponsored by | (UM READING SIX NG. STORIES AT ONCE. f women... with secret ‘t pockets for your valuables, security pockets for your peace of mind and washing instructions you can swear by - "Give ’em Hell!" STONE HOURS: 49 - $:30 Monday thiu Saturday” VANCOUVER iversari 1 and quiet! After a while, that made more sense to us than the crowd’s refrain, so we started chanting “We want peace and quiet’’ too. Several of the people around us joined in, and we all ended up nearly paralyzed with laughter. Happy anniversary, Sweet Buns. Sentimental? Ha! Not us. until I suddenly remembered.” Ah yes. It comes back. Our oldest kid was marching beside us. The crowd was chanting something about wanting peace in our time, and the kid was doing his best to join in, but he was on- ly four and he didn't have it quite right. He kept chanting: ‘‘We want peace and quie!, we want peace The North Shore’s Second Most Famous Bridge. Choose fram 100's of frames including Sithouette & Valentino.