And The Winner Is!
During the last 2 months patriciaswisdom has been running a writing contest entitled “How We Met” It took all 5 judges to break several ties and get a true winner because all of the submissions were just spectacular and delightful to read.
I think folks never get enough opportunity to share the story of how they met and became a couple.
Ken’s book is at the Printers as we post.
Ken does not have a blog and he suggested that if you would wish to contact him try this email address: ken(dot)tanner(at)shaw(dot)ca
I could not dive into Ken’s About Page so asked him to share a brief biography so we could all get to know him better:
Short Biography: Ken has been married to Carol for 34 years. Careers in hi-technology business and university teaching respectively eventually gave way to semi-retirement out on the west coast – skiing, golf and hiking now taking up more time than work. Ken operates several small businesses on a part-time basis in Vancouver while Carol continues to teach part-time for Seneca College by distance education. Romance has always been Ken’s strong point – a personally fulfilling way of expressing love for the most important person in his life, and has resulted in his writing a book on romance within the mature, stable marriage. Daughter Allison is in third year at UBC studying Political Science, while son Gordon is married to Michelle – both of them chemical engineers in Fort McMurray Alberta.
Without further rambling let me present the winning and beautiful writing of Ken Tanner:
Random Chance or Devine Plan
Random chance or part of a divine plan? The mystery of falling in love makes us want to believe that the divine plan has brought us together, but the skeptic will argue that it is just random chance when we meet our lifelong partner.
As a new arrival to Queen’s university, Carol had enjoyed the previous year’s “first-year introduction” party at the nearby all-male military academy – so much so that she decided to crash it during her second year. Slipping with other similarly inclined girlfriends into one of the two dozen taxis hired by the academy to take female freshmen to the party, the sophomores successfully negotiated security at the academy entrance without challenge. Strategically positioning themselves in the lounge at the officer’s club so that interested prospects would feel comfortable to approach, the whole setup resembled a precision military mission: target – the newly arrived third year officer cadets from the west coast.
Leaving all our non-military friends (particularly the girlfriends) back out on the west coast, the obligatory transfer to the Kingston academy had been hard for the newly arrived third year cadets. Ken, like the others, needed to find a new set of liaisons to counter what surely would become a suffocating all-male enclave at the academy. The annual party with the first year women from Queen’s was a perfect setup – kind of like shooting ducks at a gallery – potential for lots of contacts but no kills likely. Well, Ken got killed.
Meandering at the start of the evening through the now throbbing masses of newly arrived cadets and eager “first year girls” from Queens, Ken noticed a charming redhead in a blue dress with white flowers leisurely relaxed on the corner couch – space available right beside her. Like an unwitting fish going for the bait, Ken introduced himself, sat down, and got hooked. Agenda? A glass of wine, dancing into the night, a walk along the waterfront, a requested ( and accepted) kiss, pizza at the local greasy joint, a stroll back to the women’s residence. Lastly, a request for a phone number at the residence reception desk.
As Carol turned to get pen and paper, the attack came out of nowhere. A woman, quite inebriated, raced across the foyer at reception and threw herself at Ken, kissing him passionately, hugging him, practically mauling him. Carol turned to witness this scene, Ken frantically attempting to disengage while blabbing something about this being a distant cousin. The requested phone number was reluctantly handed over, but Carol headed to the stairs convinced this was a total lost evening.
Ken’s later calls professing that this really was his cousin were not convincing, and requests for a follow-on date were declined. It was only three weeks later that Carol inadvertently found out that it really was Ken’s distant cousin who had, in a beer-induced haze, wrapped herself around him that evening at the residence.
Ken’s method for getting Carol back onside? Flamboyant self promotion. Elegant candlelight dinners out, fine wine, romantic dances at the officer’s club, formal evenings in gown and full military uniform, shameless romantic gestures. By Christmas, she was persuaded. Thirty five years later, she is still persuaded.
Random event or divine plan? Even God could not have planned this one…