Anniversary

So, my anniversary is on September 11, which means, ironically, that I won't ever forget it again. It also lends a little oomph to the memories of that day in 2001. I remember several things about 9/11/01, but I think the two most vivid are as follows...

1.) Tracy and I left a hastily called prayer meeting to go out to dinner. My thinking at the time was that the real aim of the terrorists was to thwart my way of life, or, in other words, to make me afraid to go out, etc. I don't really know if I still believe that exactly, but it certainly made sense at the time. I remember going to this little cafe in Canyon. We were literally the only two people eating dinner. It was so eerie, sitting there, attempting to enjoy the day that only comes once a year, and being so alone (alone together, of course).

2.) I remember seeing the lines for gas. And the gas was, like $4.00 a gallon, which, although unheard of at the time, was actually a harbinger of things to come. I remember reasoning that I wouldn't get in a gas line for those ridiculous prices. (I still probably wouldn't wait in a line, but I pay close to that price every time I put gas in these days.) It's funny how my thought process that day is kind of cemented in my mind. I thought of all the places that I frequented and decided that if there came a gas shortage, I would simply walk. That's it. Walk to work, walk the kids to school, walk to the grocery store. I mean, I tried to think of every place we went regularly, and came down on the side of If I Can't Walk There, I Won't Go. Weird.



I say all that to say that as each year passes, the surreality of that day is replaced a little more with some sort of normalcy. In fact, this year's version of the Anniversary was much better for a few laughs than wide-eyed shock. Now this one, our 15th, didn't rival the 10th, which saw us spending seven sun soaked days in Cozumel, but it was a good day. I will share a self deprecating, but hopefully funny story. I, ever the romantic, went a few days early and purchased a Couples Spa Package. I will be the first to admit that if it's metro for a guy to enjoy being pampered... then I am definitely not metro. It really doesn't have that much to do with the pampering part, but my complete and utter discomfort with being in such a public state of undress. Public in this case means in someone's presence other that Tracy. This particular discomfort goes the way of the American Bison in Cozumel, since none of those jack-ass tourists are likely to be lucky enough to lay eyes on this pasty white kid again in their pathetic, miserable, little lives. But I digress...

So the first part of the Couple's Spa Packge involves a hydro-therapy bath. Together. The sign on the back of the door says, "Bathing Suits Must Be Worn At All Times". I relate that just so you don't get the wrong idea about the context of a shared hydro-therapy bath. So that was pretty cool, lots of good smells, some quiet music, a dark room... and that damn bathing suit.

The second part of the Couple's Spa Package, which is likely the most beneficial, maybe even practical, part of the ordeal, is the couple's massage. We were ushered into another dark, quiet room equipped with two massage tables. It was at this time that the second difficult decision had to be made. (I realize I have not yet explained the first difficult decision, but we are coming to that.) Our "guide", whom we'll call Josh, explained that the left table was his, and that the table on the right would be "manned" by Sarah. I have heard on several occasions discussions about various combinations of gender and masseuse, most of which involve at least some untruth. This discussion takes on whole new complexities when shared by husband and wife. The long and short of it is that I chose Sarah, sight unseen, mind you. So the massage ensued, and was very relaxing and enjoyable. Unfortunately, near the end of my massage, my first difficult decision resurfaced, only because I chose rather poorly. I would like to remind readers at this point that the Couple's Spa Package was only my second official massage. Official in this case simply rules out those little shoulder rubs by well meaning but retarded people that last either way too long, or just long enough to make you think about getting a real one. At any rate, my first official massage came five years ago in Cozumel. I guess they do it different in Mexico, because I stayed on my stomach the whole time. My first difficult decision was what to wear under my robe into the massage room. Thinking of my first official massage experience, I went with the nothing under my robe option. This was revealed as utter folly when Sarah asked me to turn over onto my back. The sheet that previously worked wonderfully covering my back side, seemed suddenly seriously insufficient for covering my front. I believe it is in everyone's best interest to end this segment of our story by saying that I was in no way comforted by Tracy's remark that "these people are professionals and they've seen it all." Well, that may be, but they haven't seen all of me!

The Couple's Spa Package ended in a third phase which involved yet another quiet room, though well lit this time, two glasses of champagne, chocolate covered strawberries, and this way-too-sweet cake, with icing like armor. Overall, I give the experience high marks, but I also rank it high in the Dave is Socially Uncomfortable area.

I don't know if you caught on, but there are two morals to this story. One is that the most devastating events will be partially, of not completely, healed over time. The second is that you might ask some probing questions before lying naked under a thin sheet in a public place.