Nineteen years is a long time to be married. Consecutively, that is.

Yes, it is definitely something worth celebrating. In 1999 when we hit the ten year milestone, we started to make a big deal about our anniversary.

Spending the night at the Paramount Hotel on West 46th Street in Manhattan became our annual ritual.

The first five years at the Paramount were fine. But in 2005 when we arrived, they
told us there were no rooms left (even though we had a reservation) and
then proceeded to give us what must’ve been the tiniest room in a hotel
full of tiny Phillipe Starck-designed rooms. And the crisp white design
– white everything except for the gilt-framed artistic headboard –
wasn’t so crisp and white anymore. There were cigarette burns on the
white carpet and a soft patina of gray everywhere else.

And, to make matters worse, a clock radio went off FULL BLAST in the
room next door at 4:30 a.m. Hotel security came upstairs immediately
and knocked vigorously on the door until the guest turned it off.

So it wasn’t exactly the perfect night away from the kids that we always fantasize about.

In 2006, we decided to take a low key, even blase approach. We figured: why make such a big
deal about it anyway? It was only 17 years after all. Plus making a big tadoo
always arouses expectations and sets you up for disappointment. So we decided: take it easy, take it slow. Let’s just wish each other a happy anniversary and have a nice dinner in Brooklyn.

And that’s exactly what we did. At Brooklyn Fish Camp on Fifth
Avenue at Warren Street, the chilled bottle of reasonably priced white
wine from Australia was all we needed to enjoy the sultry summer night
sitting in the restaurant’s large, lovely backyard. We reminisced about
our wedding 17 years ago, remembering what we were doing when…

Last year I was on Block Island alone. I think we did something the following week. And tonight, for our 19th, we haven’t decided yet….

We will be doing our Park Slope Food Coop shift together today and that’s always really romantic.