Being single at my age is no easy task. I’m too old for the disco scene and too young to be playing 500 at the senior center. In addition my on-line computer dating skills leave something to be desired. (What the heck does ‘OMG’, ‘LOL’ or ‘WTF” mean?)
Back in college I met a pretty young co-ed named Ursula from Colts Neck, New Jersey and we hit it off. We did everything together, studied all night, went out for pizza late at night, attended candlelight protests against the war late at night, and then there was the sex. We shared a bong, rocked to Crosby, Stills & Nash, even arranged our class schedules to be together, and then there was the sex. I braided her hair, she braided mine, we made love and neither one of us could see a future without each other.
Until we got out of school. The cruel reality of civilization came crashing down on us. She returned to the Jersey shore and became a dentist and I went back to Ohio to be a stand-up comedian moonlighting as a used-car salesman. And then there was no more sex. But before we left each other we made a pact. If in ten years neither one of us was married, we would take the plunge together.
Fast forward to 1987 and I happened to bump into Ursula at a UN Security Council session in New York City. She had a practice in Manhattan and I was working a gig at the “Purple Onion” on the Lower East Side. It was as if the magic never left, but alas, we were both married.
In 1997 I was doing three shows and a matinee at the “Sick Fool” in Aspen and sitting in the front row was Ursula. She had been snowboarding and heard I was in town and decided to catch my act.
Again, we were both still married though not to the same people from ten years ago.
2007 rolled around, I was sightseeing on a boat off the coast of Alaska during a break from appearing at the “Hungry Heifer” in Nome when I turned around and there she was, as pretty as ever. She was in town for plaque convention and fate had thrown us together again. We were both married, though not to the same people from ten years ago but we thought what the hell.
We decided to meet up every two years in a remote setting and just enjoy each other like the gold old hippie days.
Last month was our third such tryst at a little bed & breakfast at an undisclosed location. The spark was still there and we figured, why ruin it by getting married to each other?
I can’t wait for 2015.
The list today contains a few of the highlights from our last close encounter of a third kind. Most of the time we