Meeting Michelle (#1305)

Topics/tags: Michelle, Autobiographical

The other day, someone told me they’d heard Michelle and I first met in Chemistry lab. It’s an interesting theory. I don’t know where it came from. While Michelle was a Chemistry major, I never took a Chemistry class at the U of C. Physics and Biology were my lab sciences, and, if I recall correctly, I managed to have only one of my three quarters of Biology involve real lab work.

In any case, I wanted to correct the misconception, so I tried to tell them the real story. But it didn’t come out quite right. So I’m trying again in the hopes that (a) I can remember and (b) others who know the story can tell me what I got wrong.

Here’s the TL;DR version: We both remember the other one being rude to us the first time we met. Then we planned a wedding at a party. Since we’d planned the wedding, which implied that we were engaged, we started dating.

Now, let me try to fill in the details. There will be some side notes—there are parts of the story that I can’t fit into the right place. Or maybe they will fit in when I start putting things together.

The starting point is relatively easy. Michelle and I each had the same best friends: Adena and Randy. Michelle met them during newly admitted student days, or something like that. I didn’t attend newly admitted student days, but Adena and Randy lived in Pierce with me (Tufts 3rd, to be specific). Randy and I took Analysis in R^n with Paul Sally together [1]. Adena and I were both from the Boston area, and, somehow, our mothers met each other and decided we should meet. I think Adena, Randy, and Michelle all took Chemistry together.

In spite of having the same best friends, Michelle and I didn’t encounter each other for most of our first year. However, at the end of our first year, Randy and I decided to move out of the dorms and found a place at 1517 East 57th Street [2]. But we needed roommates. Randy suggested we ask Michelle. All I can remember from visiting her in her room is that she never looked up from her textbook whiel talking to us. I was not impressed.

Her memory of our first meeting is during some summer, perhaps 1984 or 1985, when a group of people went to Chinatown together, and we were both part of the group. For some reason, someone I was friends with had a bad opinion of her, and it appears we made fun of her for most of the night. At least that’s what I remember her telling me. [3]

Fast forward a bit to January 19, 1986. At least I think it was January 19, 1986; there’s a slight chance it was 1985. It was definitely the 19th, because it was another friend’s birthday. We were having a party. That’s not a surprising thing. For some reason, we had lots of parties. People even danced [4]. But at some point during this party, we started to plan a wedding for us. The only detail I remember is that Randy (male) was supposed to wear green chiffon. Or yellow. Did we plan that it would be a Jewish wedding and we’d raise the kids Catholic or vice versa [5]?

Since we were planning a wedding, and therefore engaged, it only made sense that I ask her out. That happened a little bit later.

And here I introduce the first side-story. At this point in my life, I was wearing a white silk scarf along with my jean jacket with a stuffed animal in the pocket [6]. For some reason (see a subsequent side story), Michelle had volunteered to wash the scarf [7]. But she had no idea how to wash a silk scarf. It probably wasn’t even silk: polyester, perhaps. I still have it somewhere; I’ll have to look for it. In any case, she asked her mother, who couldn’t help, and then asked her friend, Rose, who asked her mother (who was an amazing seamstress).

So, I also asked Michelle out to thank her for washing my scarf. We’re getting married, so we should date. And I’d like to acknowledge your nice gesture with one of my own.

There are some behind-the-scenes stuff here that Michelle would regularly insert at about this point in the broader story. She’d already talked to her mother about me before (see forthcoming side story), so on the night I was taking her out, Michelle called home to tell her mother. But her mother wasn’t there. So Michelle said to her father, Do you want to freak mom out? Of course, he said Yes. So she said Just tell her that I’m going out to dinner with Sam. And remember, this was in pre-cell-phone days. Michelle’s roommate said that Kathy called so many times waiting for Michelle to get home that she eventually just took the phone off the hook.

I’m 90% sure we went to Mello Yello (however it’s spelled). And no, it’s not the I’m just mad about Saffron place; it’s a different Mello Yello. At the time, I clearly lacked social graces [8]. For whatever reason, I spent half the dinner imitating her, repeating her words and actions. I have no idea why she decided to go out with me again.

Our second (or third?) date was much better. This was also back in the days before widespread videocasettes. However, the University of Chicago had both Doc Films and an awesome film library. Real film, like 35mm. As an officer of Doc Films [9] and a student in Gerald Mast’s classes, I had access to the film library. So I reserved the screening room, and we watched Singing in the Rain together. I still think Fred Astaire is a better dancer than Gene Kelly, but I loved Singing in the Rain, particularly the parts with Donald O’Connor. And it’s remained a point of connection for Michelle and I.

So there you have it. The origins of our love. We had the same best friends. We had bad first experiences with each other. We planned a wedding (for unknown reasons). We had one date where I was particularly obnoxious. We had a better second (or third) date. At some point, we realized we were right for each other and got engaged for real. We got married on August 29, 1987.

I still recall my mother and many of our friends telling us that we were too young to get married. In August 1987, I was 23, and Michelle was 22 [10]. But when we talked to those friends (and my mother) and asked them if they thought we’d still get married in five years, they all agreed we would. So what would the point have been to wait?

I promised you some more backstory, didn’t I? Or side-tales. Or something like that.

Sometime before that night of January 19, probably a few years earlier, Michelle found that she was interested in me. But she thought I was gay. Why did she think I was gay? Well … she knew that Randy had a gay roommate, and she knew Randy’s other roommate wasn’t gay. So it had to be me. But, um, we had four roommates, rather than three. And it was the fourth roommate who was gay. However, Michelle also said that I didn’t react when women flirted with me. That’s probably true. I was somewhat oblivious.

In any case, Michelle had had conversations with her mother that included me, perhaps of the form I’m interested in Sam, but he’s gay. Then, after the engagement, she called to tell her mother about the event (and to ask for advice on washing silk (or polyester) scarfs). At that point, she also told her mother that I wasn’t gay. Her mother said something like, Nothing’s going to happen. If he ever asks you out on a date, you should call me. And so she did …

There’s more to the story. And less. And almost certainly more side stories. Nonetheless, the core concepts are here. Great friends. Wedding planning. The necessary follow-up of dating.

I’ll add any updates I hear from Adena or Randy or Rose or other friends.

Postscript: Michelle’s always been the one of us who best remembers things (except the date of our wedding) and tells the best stories. It will be hard not to have her here to remember and share.

Postscript: Randy sent me an important update to this story. Here goes.

The only thing I want to add is that at some point when we were living together, after you had met, I was giving Michelle a call. I had the impression (which I’m now questioning based on your story :-)) that you basically liked each other (not particularly liked-like, at least not at that point), so I said to you I’m calling Michelle; would you like me to say anything to her for you? and you responded Sure; ask her if she’ll marry me. I called her and asked, and she said Sure and from that point forward you each introduced the other as their fiance. (I think she was still dating someone else at the time; I remember a conversation with her in which she told me her boyfriend got a bit upset that she was going out to dinner with someone, she mentioned it was you and he stopped worrying. In telling me the story she made it clear that that wasn’t a smart judgement call of his.). Then we (including Michelle, in my memory) planned the wedding at the party, and I was going to be maid of honor in a green chiffon dress. I don’t think we really addressed the catholic/jewish issue at that point. I don’t remember if she was still dating Jeff (??) at that point. You folks started dating sometime after that, but were always fuzzy on when, and I think told me that you told other people the date of the phone call when they asked when you had gotten engaged.

Randy is correct, and I’d completely forgotten that. I did say Ask her if she’d marry me when he was talking to her on the phone before the party. And that’s why we planned the wedding. That changes the timeline a bit. Perhaps she’d volunteered to wash the scarf before that party. I have no memory why I said what I said. I tended to say weird off-handed comments at the time. (I still do.) I even made business cards that said Nonsequiturs anonymous. We may not make sense, but we sure like pizza. [11]

Randy’s right that we certainly knew each other better by then. Michelle and Adena had a bunch of Chemistry study sessions in our apartment, so we’d certainly talked.

In any case, I’m going with Print the legend. But the legend can be I asked her to marry me via an intermediary. We planned a wedding. Then we started dating. That may even be a true legend.

[1] I learned so much from Paul Sally. And I still have my Shmuzzles, somewhere.

[2] It’s not particularly relevant to this story, but I loved living at 1517 East 57th. We were down the street from Powell’s, which meant that I could stop by the free book bin on the way to class each morning and on the way home from class each night. I could also wander inside and buy books. We lived right over the railroad tracks, so we learned to develop the ability to sleep above anything.

[3] I should note that Michelle and I had many many meals in Chinatown once we were together. Moon Palace was a favorite, especially when it was in its old location on the second floor.

[4] Not me, but I did spin platters.

[5] In reality, we had a mostly-Catholic wedding and we raised the kids Catholic. Her attachment to her faith is greater than mine.

[6] Fur Mat.

[7] And yes, it needed it.

[8] If I have any now, they are due to Michelle’s hard work.

[9] I spent about three years of my life shipping films for Doc Films, running the projector, and even, for a summer, programming and running the summer program. I’m still proud that I could do seamless transitions between reels.

[10] She’ll tell you that’s because I’m a boomer, and she’s not. But I’d rather be a boomer than a ’tweener.

[11] I’d forgotten about the nonsequitur’s anonymous cards until Frank Corley sent me a scan of one a few years ago. As I’ve said, Michelle has the memory for our family.

Version 1.0 released 2024-09-22.

Version 1.1.1 of 2024-09-23.