Happy Anniversary Babe! (Now go get me a cold one will ya?)

It's been 23 years to the day when Mr. & Mrs. DaBlade tied the knot, and we are still happily married despite the bad omens working against us. No, I'm not talking about that bogus "stalking in my camero near the bus stop" charge while I was in college. I beat that rap. Besides, I made her an honest school girl women, didn't I? Then "What bad omens," I imagine you asking? Let me share a few Hawaiian Honeymoon pictures.

Bad Omen Number One:
We share our anniversary with the Chernobyl disaster. How many of you can say, that on the day you shared your vows with your spouse, the fallout from an exploding Russian nuclear reactor was pluming toward your honeymoon venue. "How bad can it be babe. We'll only be 4 thousand miles closer to this radiation cloud and I'm bringing suncreen with an SPF factor of 15."


Bad Omen Number Two:Pictured is beautiful Hanauma Bay on the island of Oahu.

We hadn't been married a full week yet and Mr. DaBlade lost his wedding ring somewhere in the coral reef while snorkling (after consuming vast amounts of Mai Tais). I remember you being less than amused when I hired those beach-combers with their fancy metal detectors, especially after the search was fruitless. I was not off to a good start. I imagine my gold band is still swimming with the pretty fishys. I would like to return and begin this search from scratch, what do you say?

Bad Omen Number Three:
Pictured is Mrs. DaBlade hanging out of our rental somewhere on the north shore of Kuai. This picture was taken shortly after we learned why the road map turned into a small dotted line after a few hour drive.

A short time later we did find a beatifully secluded white sandy beach that we had all to ourselves, even if it did cost the security deposit on the rental car. Of course, this seclusion only lasted about 30 minutes before it was interupted by that low flying helicoptor with that dude hanging out the side and screaming at us through his bullhorn for us to evacuate. It may have been the rum absorption, but I couldn't quite make out what else he was saying. I thought he was looking for some girl named "Sue Nami" or something. I remember thinking we would just blow this dude off rather than give up this prime beach spot. Much better than the elbow-to-elbow crowds on Waikiki. However, this guy was quite persistant, and I found it difficult to read my newspaper with a helicopter hovering 30 feet above my head. Back in the car and listening to the radio we learned about the tsunami warning that was forecast to hit the Hawaiian Islands after an enormous earthquake struck the Aleutian Islands off the coast of Alaska. We made it back to our hotel just in time to catch the last bus of evacuating tourists.

I took this picture from the "elevated hill" we were evacuated to at the precise time the said tidal wave was supposed to strike.

The irony of the cemetary if the foreground was lost on me at the time because of the rum, and the fact that this was well before the deadly Christmas tsunami of 2004. Thank goodness this was a false alarm because I might have gotten more than a little wet for this shot. As it turned out, we spent one tenth of our honeymoon fortune standing around and eating peanut butter sandwiches handed out by the Red Cross. Not exactly the Hawaiian luau we had heard so much about. I remember stating to a native born Hawaiian that I bet they had to do this drill a few times a year (thinking they were as common as a Michigan tornado warning). "last time 1962," was the reply. Lucky us!

Bad Omen Number Four:
I wanted to golf on the island of Maui and Mrs. DaBlade went along to get along. That speck on the side of the mountain addressing the ball is none other than Mrs. DaBlade.

I insisted she had to play her ball where it lied, so while she was trudging up the mountain to her ball, I was driving the cart in the opposite direction to get this shot, giggling like an idiot all the way. Mrs. DaBlade was not amused. She became even more surly when she developed sun poisoning after the first 6 holes. Rather than seek immediate medical attention for her balooning and swollen lips, I played two more holes. Hey, when was I going to get back here?!

Bad Omen Number Five:
Thurstons lava tube. A wet, dank cave formed by lava. One of us insisted we go in. One of us was quite insistant that we not. One of us went along to get along. The wet atmosphere ruined someone's hair and made the other one pay for it for the rest of the day. I would suffer another reactor meltdown before another bad hair episode. Just sayin'.

Even after ALL THIS (and much more), Mrs. DaBlade has stuck by my side. She is my wife and my best friend, and I love her dearly!

Pictured: This is NOT Renée Zellweger and Tom Selleck on a Hawaiian booze cruise.