“I am NOT going to be Patti Smith for the rest of my life!” “Well, alright, then, the hell with ya,” Mr. Smith said.
And so it went on like that for 7 or 8 years. Then, suddenly, during dinner on a V-day, question popped, proposition accepted. Lufrano’s restaurant in South Minneapolis, (it’s gone now.) “Let’s make your mom happy,” he said, pulling out a modest, unassuming silver ring. “I’m still not gonna be a Smith!” “All right, ok….” “Ok, then.”
I think we went to see the Cows at the Entry that night.
We decided to just go downtown and do the deed a couple weeks later. We weren’t into doing a big wedding or anything – hey – we had just bought a house the year before! We didn’t tell his family who live in town here about our plans. Chris’ brother, Andy, was tapped to be our “best man” and was tricked into coming to the courthouse under the pretense of having to sign something on their mom’s probate papers. Cathy Camper was my maid of honor – I didn’t trick her; that would have been mean.
We were all waiting for Andy to get off the elevator at the courthouse and when he stepped out, he looked at us all very quizzically, saying, “Why are you guys all dressed up?” Chris handed him a corsage to pin to his lapel, and said, “Oh hey, would you be my best man, man?” Andy freaked! He kept laughing and unfortunately we had him serve as our photographer – the shots all cut our heads off. He just kept laughing and laughing, going, “Oh my God I don’t believe you guys are doing this!!!”
We went out to eat Thai food immediately after the judge hitched us, then we went home. We had to sleep because we had to do our radio show that night. And it was pledge drive. Exciting and touching, aye? I know, I know! Stop crying!