Thirty years ago today, Oct. 16, Alice and I had our first date. It was a Tuesday night, much warmer than today, and we went to the Homemade Ice Cream and Pie Kitchen on Bardstown Road in Louisville. We sat at a little table in the corner with a player piano drowning out the noise of the hundred or so other customers there. I was facing Alice and the wall. Eventually a waitress who was sweeping the floor asked if we wanted a cup of coffee.
"Strange," I thought, and I looked around. No one else was there. All the chairs were turned upside down and placed on the other tables. I had been babbling on for so long (and wishing I could shut myself up) that they were getting ready to close, and I hadn't even noticed.
She's been putting up with me, and distracting me like that, for 30 years now...
