Chemistry 101
I met my spouse of 31 years (today, yes 9/11) on the first day of "early week" in my freshman year at the university we attended. She, a beautiful and glamorous and talented majorette. I, a lowly 2nd part trumpet player with a bad haircut and silly band uniform. Early week was preparatory for the upcoming marching band season. We crossed paths. Our eyes locked and it was destiny. Love at first sight.
Ha.
To be clear, I said I "met" my wife on the first day of early week. I remember what she was wearing, I remember her hairstyle (very big blonde 80s), bone-crushing lovely, the sweetest personality, and I remember meeting her. I said "hi." She did not respond, briskly walking past me. If you knew me then (or now), you would understand which justifiably calls into question her judgement.
Sidebar: The only reason I signed up for university band as a young man of no athletic skills and very mediocre trumpet skills was to have full access to midcourt seats at every basketball game and the SEC tournament and, Lord willing, the NCAA tournament (all pretty much guaranteed by the stature of our program). On my instrument, I was not technically very astute but I had two superior skills - I could play very loud and I could do so staying in tune. As Ferris Bueller said, "They bought it." A week after the summer tryouts, I got a kind letter of acceptance to the band and a small scholarship.
However, to earn the privilege of entry to basketball games for pep band, you had to march for football games (at that time, my school became the doormat to the doormat of the conference in football). So, given that I love music and I was appreciative of cheerleaders and majorettes, it was a no brainer. It was especially an easy call for a young man with absolutely no other prospects and no idea how he was going to pass Chemistry 101 on the way to med school.
Not to sound creepy, because I think this is how it goes for most guys (or used to before online dating apps), I spent the next two years gradually getting to know that lovely girl. There was a very deliberate intentionality to my tactics for saying "hello" and being prepared with something to say if I got the chance. There was always band but we occasionally saw each other out at frat parties or once or twice at the local jazz club. She with her date, I with mine.
Then in our second semester of our junior year, I walked into my econ class and there she was (clearly, I did not get over the chem 101 hurdle). Second row. She saw me walk in and that brilliant smile almost took me to my knees. Fortunately, she needed a tutor and I was only too happy to provide that service free of charge. The collateral damage was the guy who turned out to be the former boyfriend.
Here's the moral of the story. If you think a government agency is providing us with accurate inflation data to three decimal points, then you probably won't pass Chemistry 101. Indeed, I'm guessing you'll struggle with Social Sciences 101.
