Celebrate Good Times...(Now you're singing, aren't you.)

(This is a two-part post. Please hold you applause until the end of each act.)

B-DAY SHOUT OUT
First, a belated Happy Birthday to Russell, the youngest of the Roberts Clan. I’d be remiss if I didn’t give the guy a shout-out for the world to see…or at least the United States. Rest assured, I wished him a birthday on his birthday and was the first to do so, I might add. (Not that I’m to most thoughtful of his siblings, just the only one who lives on the East Coast and am up and at ‘em before the rest of the crew.)
Russell started kindergarten the same year I started college, so our paths have gone in decidedly different directions. I haven’t lived at home for coming up on 9 years, through all that time I’ve only been homesick once. As a new missionary, I saw a little boy at church one Sunday that reminded me of my littlest brother and for about three hours I was in a bad funk. I guess that’s a tribute of sorts.
Russ is a cut above any other 14 year-old I’ve ever met. He’s extremely thoughtful, very witty, polite and well spoken – not how you’d expect a teenager to act. His last birthday was overshadowed by the wedding and there wasn’t an ounce of complaint. I’ve maintained that a filtering process has happened with us kids, that each one gets better as the dross is let behind. I suppose that doesn’t speak very well of me, but it gives you an idea about my sibs and how good a kid Rusky is. (The nickname wasn’t because we think he’s a Russian, it’s because it rhymes with ‘Husky’.)
So Happy Birthday, little brother!

Intermission

US SHOUT OUT
Next up is that Paula and I celebrated our first anniversary this weekend and it was pretty low-key. You can read her comments about our first year of marriage on her blog and I appreciate her sentiments, although there were a couple of things I can’t help but take exception to.
First of all – the dress couldn’t help but be stepped on. It was enormous, especially in proportion to my wife; seriously, check out the girth of this thing. People kept teasing me about not standing close to my wife, but if I did I stepped on her dress…paradox.
I don’t know what all the ‘ups and downs’ talk is about. Downs? Please. Try and name one.
Having our apartment broken into and our possessions taken?
My ex-girlfriend almost becoming our sister-in-law?
The Le Sabre (may it rest in peace) being totaled by some schmucks and having to buy a new car?
Fighting down a $22,000 hospital bill?
Finding out we’re pregnant in the ER with the caveat of it being Ectopic?
Well…I don’t know. I guess I’m a ‘glass-half-full’ kind of guy.
What I do agree with is that it has flown by and that both excites and scares me. It’s exciting because I’m confident the best is yet to come, that this year has set a firm foundation for the rest of our lives. It scares me because it reminds how fleeting life is and how important it is to cherish every moment, or more importantly make moments worth cherishing – New York for Christmas; Burt’s Pumpkin Patch; The Fray; Sunny China delivery four times in less than two weeks; knowing we’ll be parents soon; Wicked, Les Miserables, Phantom – with someone who doesn’t holds you back but builds you up.
I'd like to sum up how I feel about my wife, but I'm sort of caught in a pickle because I want everyone to be able to understand how much she means to me; guys don't always get or appreciate the sentimental tributes and gals sometimes to don't appreciate too much teasing when trying to present a compliment. But I think I've stumbled onto a way to adequately describe what a great companion Paula is to me and how lucky I am to have herthat everyone can appreciate. Here is goes...
GUYS: She’s the Scottie to my MJ, the Jerry Rice to my Steve Young, the Stockton to my Malone, the John Beck to my Johnny Harline, the Halo to my Xbox, the Rock to my Roll, the extra cheese to my pizza, the Spade to my Farley, the Pinky to my Brain.
GALS: She’s the Bacall to my Bogart, the Beauty to my Beast, the Beesly to my Halpert the Hepburn to my Peppard, the double-fudge to my chocolate, the Jimmy to my Choo, the Dolce to my Gabbana.

Happy Anniversary, Paula.

Curtain