Family
A Little Dolphin Story
A mojo-filled birth
A day after she showed up out of the blue at my front door after not seeing her for two years I proposed marriage to my sweetheart on a hot Texas Friday evening in July of 1985 (the year of the flux capacitor). The twilight stars were twinkling, the crickets were making as much noise as they could, and we were standing on a little bridge that spanned a small duck pond.
She said, “Give me the weekend to think about it and I’ll give you my answer on Monday.”
It was so romantic, am I right?
So I had all weekend to sell myself; to convince her that marrying me would not be such a stupid idea. But I also had to be honest so I told her that if she married me she would end up moving to Santa Fe, New Mexico because moving to Santa Fe was the number one goal of my life at that time.
Santa Fe was my Mecca. I had visited there numerous times and it had become my very favorite city on all of Turtle Island. I had never felt so passionate about any place that I had ever been.
My honey had never been there so I spent a good deal of time that weekend — while we rested between love-making sessions — selling Santa Fe to her. It was not hard.
