“What a great Fire Department!” I yell back, and proceed to tell everybody, including the Chief, not particularly noticing a nearby reporter, that the best thing of all was that they got the fire out before it reached the trunk because also in the trunk was an “Abstract of Title” needed this very afternoon for a real estate closing. (Abstracts are the history of that property’s every owner and every easement down thru the ages.) What this reporter on the scene didn’t report is my post-fire proclaiming what a tremendous rescue job it truly was, is because of the Abstract. My earlier request to save my baseball bat was just a short, to the point, way to get fast action. Better than a long winded:
“Say Mister Chief, there’s an abstract of title in the trunk made out of parchment paper. It’s 50 pages thick, 100 years old and has every owner for all of time for this property handwritten in it. It’s irreplaceable and I need it for a real estate closing this afternoon or I can’t go on my honeymoon. If you can get the fire out before it reaches the trunk; that would be great.”
Sure ‘nuff, the next day in the paper, my most mortal media maledictorian ever since the Mayor’s Race, is editorializing “ . . . and any guy who thinks his baseball bat is the most important thing in the world should be banished for life from the Legislature, and his District should be punished for electing such a fool by being forever forbidden from electing a replacement.” Nice huh? Thanks Joe, you’ve always been such a friend, You Jerk!
Meanwhile, when I got home the night of the fire, Ellen tells me that she was just arriving at the Capitol as the building was being evacuated and when she asked “What’s going on?” was told, “Don’t you know? Your boyfriend set the building on fire!”
But other than that we pulled it all off without a hitch getting hitched. Even the campaign lit, tho soggy, was mailable. Wrote our own vows for a backyard wedding in El’s flowergarden with the Chief Justice saying “Lucky in Life means Lucky in Love and Having Meaningful Jobs.” Had our reception at the Saints minor league ballpark, fresh walleye, plenty of sweet corn, a Frisbee golf course, and dancing to Willie Murphy singing the blues. Honeymooned in Europe – talk about bliss!
Tomorrow: First Comes Love . . . then Comes Marriage . . . then Comes . . .