Chapter 56. Fifty Years.

Fifty years ago, today, GB and I got married.  It was a small ceremony held in his back yard.  My parents, his parents, my brother and his family, his brother and wife attended.  Cruiser R. Roozer, my dog, was also there.  Rabbi Steven Foster officiated.  Our Chupah was the arched branch of a Lindenwood Tree.  Marijuana  planted by brother Chuck filled the garden beds. 

GB wore a leisure suit. He also had a beard which, later, I would convince him to shave.  I wore a turquoise knitted full-length dress.

The decision to get married was simple.  Over Labor Day, we took a trip up to Jackson.  As we chatted over what we later described was the “greatest cheeseburger in the world”, a Mooseburger, we decided to get married.  Our fathers who had been friends since childhood were distressed by our living arrangement.  They couldn’t face each other at the bowling league.

Hence, the decision. Make our fathers happy again.

We came back to Denver, got marriage licenses, informed our parents, called a Rabbi, found a wedding ring for GB (we were going use a ring I had designed using the gold, diamonds, and rubies from my late grandmother’s earrings), and found a dress.  A few weeks later, our parents threw a party.  It was a good party.  Great food.  Lots of liquor. I was barefoot.  GB snuck out to smoke dope with his brother and some friends.  Yes, I was irritated with him.

So, for our 50th year, I did what I do best:  write.  Here’s what I gave to GB this morning, September 4, 2025.

What I Made You Do.

I think it’s a long list.  But I’ll do my best to make it complete.  After all, it’s been fifty years.

On our first date, I knew I would marry the man who let me order another entrée, pet my dog, my cats and then walk Cruiser R Roozer around the block when we came home.  That was you. And, you moved in.

Then, I asked you to bring your color tv over.  You did.

Then I made you listen to Tommy all the way to Wyoming.  And back.  Oh, and then I told you that the car was broken, or something, and it wasn’t in Rock Springs. I don’t remember but you were mad.

I convinced you that Cruiser R Roozer should be at our wedding.  He was.

And, then I convinced you to get another dog.  Just for you.  And, you had no idea Barney would be just the first in a long line of dogs and that Beanie and Wackett would be the first pair in a long line of kitties.  I think you liked that.

I convinced you to sell your house and buy another because the neighbors were unfriendly towards our dogs.  We did.

And we convinced each other to build a garden.  And we did.

I convinced you to rescue a Nicaraguan child.  We did.  And we got free grandchildren.

And, then I told you one day that I had fallen in love with a breed of dogs called Newfoundlands.  I knew nothing about them, but I saw 300 of them at a dog show and not one was barking.  Most weren’t even standing.    I said we had to have one.  And, after Roozer and Barney died, we did.

Then we had seven Newfies over 40 years. And then we had a whole bunch of other dogs.   And cats.  And birds.  And chickens.

I convinced you to help me start a foundation for cancer patients.  We did.

I convinced you to go to classical music and opera.  And to invite soloists, composers and conductors to stay with us. We did.  It was magical, wasn’t it?

And to spend two weeks living with dolphins in Grassy Key, Florida.  We did.  And you brushed dolphin teeth.

I convinced you to be friends with Wendy Bergen.  And all the insanity from just that. But you, with great trepidation did.  And wasn’t it fun until she left us?

I convinced you that having grandsons come for visits would be fun. It was.  Watching them grow. Eyad.  What a treasure he is.  And now praying that Omar will regain his health somehow.  

I convinced you to go to South Africa when I bid on it at an event. I still remember the look on your face when I held up my bid card.  Was it astonishment?    And Italy where it rained for two weeks, and you were very grumpy. And Italy again where for a month we drove backroads and stayed a Roman apartment, a farm, a castle, Tolve, Matera, Amalfi (where we did nothing but eat), and finally enchanting Itri. And Ireland and London.  And Paris.  And every year to the coast of Maine, finally finding Isle au Haut sitting peacefully in the Atlantic.  And the wonderful San Juan and Gulf Islands.  And British Columbia so many times. Especially that fabulous Tofino just to see storms roll in. And New York dozens of times.  And farms and dog parks.  And Michilin restaurants.  And Brazil for a wedding and a stay in the Amazon.  Mexico. We can’t omit Nicaragua where we jeeped through the country with the help of two friends of Amalia’s.  Do you remember when the police stopped us when I ran the stop sign on the ground? All right, Greece and Istanbul. And road trips from Washington DC through Pennsylvania; from Denver through Milwaukee up to Door County; from Denver through Milwaukee up to Lake Superior and down through Minnesota to the headwaters of the Mississippi River; and through Colorado, New Mexico, Utah and Arizona; and to San Francisco and Mendocino and the glorious national parks. And you did all of that. I convinced you that backroads are the only way to travel.  You reluctantly went along with it, forgoing famous museums that I passionately informed you held nothing of interest.  And you never agreed but went along anyway, sometimes sneaking in a few precious minutes in a museum of no interest to me at all because I insisted on visiting dog parks everywhere. 

I convinced you to have dinner parties, buy a couple of tuxedos, spend too much money, host parties for Roozer’s birthday; set up agility courses for 35 dogs at an annual summer

Wendy Bergen-infused party.  Host weddings.  Fundraisers.  Birthdays.  Anniversaries.  You did. 

I convinced you to break ice at the Urban Farm in sub-zero weather.  You did.  Oh, and help birth goats and sheep.  You did and you loved that! I convinced you that we needed chickens.  You didn’t agree and then you did. I convinced you that we could care for a turkey.  We did. 

I insisted you find your family.  I was right, wasn’t I? Imagine how lucky we were to discover a loving family in our 70’s!

All the things I talked you into, you did, mostly cheerfully; sometimes reluctantly.  But you did them. 

And, I have a confession. 

I would never have done them without you. Marrying you enabled me to grow.  To become complete.

Love,

Fou Fou

Appendix A

Names of Our Animals (in chronological order)

Cruiser R Roozer

Mean Beanie Diamond

Mr. Wackett

Barney, Tuna S Bloom

Louis and Rosie

Huey Katzmazov

Dewey Katzmazov

Phooey, the Ferret that came in one night but found his way back home

Ashcroft Silkythoughts

Abigail

Samantha Ann

Max

Winnie

Ghengis

Murphy, Kitty Boy

Elon

Shiney

Winter

Lucy

Sophie

Ol’ Doc Dewey

Dan

Paulina

Pickachoo

Nisha

Boomer

The Grifters

Betty, Dolores, Olive, MoDonna, Lucille, Henry. Oh Crap Too Many Chickens to Remember

Names of our children and grandchildren

Alba

Eyad

Omar

Juan (bonus grandchild)

Appendix B

Where  We’ve Been

(in sort of geographic order, aren’t you glad I know my geography?) Doesn’t include repeats to the same places or same state or country but different area. 

Jackson Wyoming

Montana

Pretty much all of Colorado except the southeast corner where the cantaloupe comes from.

Idaho

Oregon

Washington

San Juan Islands

Vancouver Island (gorgeous  Tofino!)

Vancouver

A loop through western Canada

California

Nevada

Arizona

Grand Canyon

New Mexico, especially Santa Fe

Utah

More Colorado

Wyoming

Yellowstone

Kansas

Nebraska

Minnesota

Illinois

South Dakota

Wisconsin

Michigan

New Orleans

Pennsylvania

Washington D.C.

Virginia

Florida (ick)

Mexico

Mexico City

Nicaragua

Brazil (Sao Paulo,  Rio, Manaus, somewhere on the Amazon, Salvador)

South Africa

United Kingdom

Ireland

Italy

Athens

Istanbul

Paris

New York

London

New Jersey (just to see Michael)

Maine

New Hampshire

Vermont

And where did I go without you?

Quebec, Tennessee, North Carolina, South Carolina, Kentucky, West Virginia, Greek Islands, Budapest, Mexico, Key West, and Rwanda.  Also Israel because you got kicked out of the country.

So many places left.  Let’s not run out of time!  Or money…

Appendix C

Where We’ve Worked

Jerry Whatshisname

Gene S. Bloom, DDS PC

Cody Dental

University of Colorado School of Dental Medicine

Oh, and a paint store.

And a bar.

Lobbyist

Legal Aid

Lobbyist

Denver Chamber Orchestra

Diana Price Fish Foundation

Jewish Community Center

Howard Dental

Felicia L Diamond Consulting, Inc.

Where We Ate

Ok.  There should be more MIchilin restaurants, but there aren’t…..

Athens

Paris

New York

Sao Paulo

San Francisco

Denver (yay!  Finally!)

You and I have a long history of contributing to our communities. I’m having trouble remembering all the organizations on whose behalf we worked. Here’s a list, but I know it’s incompete:

Colorado Dental Association

Metropolitan Denver Dental Association

Colorado State Board of Dental Examiners

University of Colorado School of Dental Medicine

Colorado Cancer Research Project

Colorado Christian Home

Denver Chamber Orchestra

Diana Price Fish Foundation

Colorado Humane Society

The Urban Farm

Bergen Spay and Neuter Alliance

The Denver Foundation

High Country Newfoundland Club

National Newfoundland Rescue

InflexionPoints

Junior Symphony Guild

JCRS Isaac Soloman Synagogue

Denver Chamber Orchestra Guild

Love with Action (Rwanda)


Comments

2 responses to “Chapter 56. Fifty Years.”

  1. kawaii080af1035c Avatar
    kawaii080af1035c

    What a great life!

    HAPPY ANNIVERSARY 😊

    Like

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