Getting Married

March 28, 1972 - July 31, 1974

I met Margie at five p.m. March 28th 1972 at the card catalogue in the OISE library at U of T. She was attractive, smart and inviting. That helped me with my shyness and my biting sense of humour. People who don't get me, intimidate me. As they say even paranoid people have detractors.

Margie and I were in graduate school one building east of OISE. I was at the end of the first year of an MBA program on the fourth floor.  My focus was social psychology. Margie was at the end of the first year of an MSW program on the seventh floor. Her focus was counseling. The OISE library had things we needed. Lots of books and graduate students of the opposite sex.

When Margie told me she was in the counseling program I faked naive and asked “what does that train you for?” She replied “lie down” making a psychoanalysis joke.

I joined her group of friends for dinner at Switzer’s on Spadina. Over dinner I elbowed out a tiny medical student named Eddy who had been cultivating Margie for awhile.

The nite ended with Margie saying to me “if you don't leave now you never will”. Over the next week we grew close. And it was pretty clear to me that we would be getting married. I was 24. She was 22. It was all over but the shouting.

We stayed close but not engaged for 18 months. We were apart the first Christmas when she went home to Vancouver while I aimed to see the capitals of Europe but got confused and ended up in the south of Morocco.

There were some ups and downs. Stupidly I didn't join Margie at the Vancouver wedding of her close friend. She was pissed. My friend, also named Jerome, had to do some magic to repair the relationship.

That was a symptom of my inability to embrace commitment.

As our studies ended in April 73, our communications broke down. I took a job in Ottawa. Margie would have come with me but I didn't think to ask. She went to Vancouver for the summer planning to return in the fall to pursue post grad studies at the Family Therapy Institute in Hamilton.  

So we were separated, thousands of miles apart, dating others. Margie dated my cousin Sheldon a criminal lawyer in Vancouver.

I think it's fair to say I quit my job and returned to Toronto in the fall because I missed Margie. She took me back. While I had a place in Toronto I often stayed at her apartment in Hamilton commuting to my new job near Yonge and Bloor. Isn't that commitment

One consequential discussion we had that fall of 1973 was about children. Margie wanted me to grow up and commit to being a father one day.

Margie invited me to go to Vancouver with her over Christmas. I agreed. Isn't that commitment.

I was pretty moved seeing Margie on her home court. Her parents were great. I knew her sister who also lived in Toronto and there was a brother who was travelling in India. My kind of guy except he's still travelling 45 years later. And I was blown away by Vancouver and Margie's shi shi neighborhood which was more like Beverly Hills than anything in Toronto.

So I asked Margie to marry me. Isn't that commitment. She said yes.

Margie's parents were members of a well developed country club, business and volunteer community and they had extended family. They liked to party. They were over the moon about the engagement, their first. So most of the next ten days in Vancouver was a swirl of ad hoc parties, visits, dinners and other showings.

I loved meeting my new extended family. The western lifestyle has a tremendous relaxed atmosphere. I felt I was joining a club I never expected to be part of. I made a special effort to measure up. People liked me in part because they loved Margie and also because I was amazing at remembering names.

Wedged into the 10 days I traveled to Los Angeles to see my mother and tell her about the engagement. My mother had friends in LA but the atmosphere was nothing like Vancouver. Margie's parents were in their early 50s while my mom was already elderly, over 65, living a much more sedentary life. I was in and out of LA in two days.

We set the date for the end of July 74. Just seven months in the future. The wedding would be in Vancouver. Margie's parents were to make the major arrangements around the venues. The vast majority of the guests would be theirs. My family was small and mostly in Toronto. And most of our current friends were in Toronto and not that many could make the trip. Margie had a lot of friends from growing up in Vancouver. Sheldon wasn't invited. Margie was committed.

Margie came to Vancouver a few weeks before the wedding to manage the micro details. I arrived 3 days before the to get a tuxedo fitting and a haircut while attending the various events for out of town guests and sleeping on my future in laws couch when I wasn't required elsewhere.

The wedding day was designed around a lot of driving for everyone on an extremely hot day. As beautiful as the ceremony was, a touch more air conditioning would have been nice.

The reception and dinner were about 5 miles away at the Bayshore Hotel. There were about 400 people living it up.

Among the festivities my brother’s speech was memorable for it's over the top platitudes. The Vancouverites partied hard and late. Margie and I were glad for the attention, the presents and being an excuse for a pretty good time.

And then we were on to the adventure of marriage. Another psychoanalysis joke.

November 2, 2018

January 10, 2019