Still a Part

 

 Yesterday was the 5-year anniversary of the last performance of Romeo and Juliet at Virginia Peninsula Community College (then Thomas Nelson Community College). Today, I had wonderful moment of memory from that production. I was not in the cast, but backstage, managing stage left. 

 Being an actor in that role is sort of weird (at least for me). You have no contact with the show or the cast until tech week (a week before opening). By the time you show up, bonds have been formed and the group is already a group. Now, I was friends with many of the cast, and looser acquaintances with others, but some, I'd never met before. I felt like a sort of half-outsider, a tangential bubble to the cast and crew that have been working on this show for the past couple months.

 So, this is the memory -- my warmest and fondest memory from that show. During the party scene where Romeo sees Juliet for the first time, most of the cast wore chem-light bracelets and/or necklaces. As they exited, many of them festooned me with their colorful, glowing jewelry before heading to their dressing rooms to change. It was a small thing, perhaps not even an intentional thing, but it made me feel truly a part of that show and that cast. It still warms my soul today, 5 years on, still makes me smile at the thought of those people, some I still barely know, but all of whom I will love 'til the day I die. 

Do the Thing

    I’ve developed a guiding philosophy: “do the thing.” Everyone has a “thing.” There is something, some activity, that drives you and fills your soul with joy. You don’t necessarily need to do it for a living. Your passion doesn’t have to be your paycheck. It might be teaching, or nursing, or painting, or playing a sport. For me, it’s acting.

    I am an actor. I don’t get paid, at least not yet, and maybe never, but I am an actor. In one sense I am new at this. I’ve only been on the stage plying my craft since early last year. But, in a more fundamental sense, I’ve always been an actor. I literally cannot remember a time when I did not want to act for a living. My mom tells a story of us watching TV when I was small — maybe four years old. I saw a character get shot, and asked her if he was dead. She explained that the character was dead, but that the person was pretending, and when the camera stopped, he would get up and go home to his family. From that moment on, I knew what I wanted to do with my life.

    All through Junior High and High School, I took Drama classes and competed on the forensics team — sort of acting with your feet stapled to the floor. My “plan,” for lack of a better word, was to move to Orlando after graduation, get a job at Disney’s Universal Studios, be discovered, and BAM: working actor. As you are doubtlessly aware, moving halfway across the state is far easier said than done. So, I languished in dead-end, minimum wage jobs for a while, and eventually enlisted in the Air Force. For the five years prior to my enlistment, and the twenty years I served, my dream was shelved — relegated to occasional daydreams. After retirement, I eventually enrolled here at Thomas Nelson as a theatre major in the Fall of 2017.

    In March of 2018, I debuted as Dr. Bradman in Noel Coward’s Blithe Spirit, here at Thomas Nelson. In the past two years, I have auditioned for and been cast in four different productions, and I have never in my life been as consistently happy as I have been these past two years. If you don’t know what your thing is, find it. You may not see a path to doing your thing. You may not be capable of devoting time and resources to it at the moment. That’s ok. Just, whatever you do, don’t let go of the thing. Shelve it if you must, but don’t give up entirely. Find your thing, and do it.

Are We So Different?

I gave a couple speeches in class this semester. I'd like to share them with you. This is a transcript of the first.

Before I get started, could I get a few volunteers that don’t mind standing for a few minutes? [Have them stand in the back]

This is a lovely picture — a happy picture. One that looks like it could easily be on my mother’s mantle, or your grandparents’. But if you look closer, you’ll see why neither your family nor mine would ever display it, even if a family member were pictured. It is a picture of some of the SS staff at Auschwitz, perhaps the most well-known Nazi death camp from WWII. They look like normal people, don’t they? I can’t speak for these specific individuals, but most Germans were normal people. How could they condone the atrocities committed by their government? Hitler, and his government used a number of techniques, including nationalism, demonization of minority groups, and control of information to manipulate the populace. One of the first things the Nazis did was evoke a sense of nationalism, of German identity, in the German people.

In the late 1920s, Germany was a beaten nation. They had lost WWI, so their pride was hurting. They were forced to pay reparations, so there was resentment toward other European nations. And, if that financial burden wasn’t enough, the Great Depression sent their economy even further into decline. In Mein Kampf, and in speeches, Hitler set the country up on a pedestal and declared that service to one’s nation was the highest ideal. That’s not an unpopular idea even today. It sounds a lot like patriotism, which, I’m sure we’d all agree is a good thing. But things can get dark when pride in one’s country becomes a prime motivator. “Deutschland uber alles,” or “Germany over all others” from the national anthem took on a sinister new meaning as they invaded Poland for “Lebensraum” or “living space.” Things get even more sinister when you start restricting what, or who, is part of that country.

Most of us have read this poem, or some part of it. It was written by a Lutheran pastor who had been imprisoned in Dachau, when they came for him. It is usually named “Confession.” On February 27th, 1932, a man set fire to the Reichstag — like the Senate chambers. The man who was arrested and later convicted was a Communist. Incidentally, Benjamin Hett, who got his PhD in modern German History says that it was impossible for the arsonist to be working alone, and all the evidence points to Nazi assistance on the job. On February 28th, 1932 — literally the next day — the Reichstag Fire Decree was issued. It dissolved many civil liberties, and the suppression of Communists began. Soon after, it was Social Democrats and even the German National People’s Party that were banned. It didn’t take long for Hitler to begin scapegoating Jews as well. To define them as outsiders, as undesirable. And he didn’t stop there. Germans were strong, and healthy, and made strong families. The disabled, the sick, homosexuals — they also didn’t fit in the Fuhrer’s vision of Germany. All of these people needed to be removed, for the sake of Germany, of course. They were all “resettled.” Resettlement is fairly easy to accept, when that’s all you know about it. Because the Nazi party worked hard to control the flow of information.

Part of that work was in ways you expect. Unwelcome news outlets were dismissed as “lügenpresse” or “lying press.” Goebbels, the Reich’s Propaganda Minister regulated Germany’s more than 10,000 magazines and periodicals, directing their output much like a conductor does an orchestra. He said “not everyone has the right to play what he pleases…. we only want them to blow according to one plan.” However, one tactic they used is less often considered: just keeping things out of sight. For example, when the Nazis started transitioning from concentration camps to death camps like Auschwitz, those new camps were built in Poland, well away from the eyes of German citizens. When prisoners were transferred to those camps, and even when they were then killed, they were often listed in camp records as “resettled.”

Of course, many knew what was happening. I’m sure there were plenty of true believers in Hitler’s message of German racial superiority. But it’s not hard to see how dangerous it can be to turn a blind eye to single-minded nationalism; to demonization of the other, be it racial, religious, political, or what-have-you; to manipulation of the press and other information sources. It’s a danger we all need to be aware of and vigilant for. And, in case you’re thinking it could never happen to you, ask yourself: “have I forgotten about my classmates standing in the back of the room?”

Justice Miscarried

    People make mistakes. They often face consequences for those mistakes. Sometimes, they forfeit some of their rights for a time — most notably, their freedom. And sometimes, they don’t get all of those rights back. Most felons in this country lose their right to vote when they are incarcerated. Many of them, after finishing their sentences and completing their parole and probation requirements, can’t have those rights reinstated. Given its racist roots and utilization, and its ineffectiveness at rehabilitating or deterring criminals, the disenfranchisement of ex-felons beyond their sentences is an injustice that should be righted.

    To understand the injustice, one must first understand the status quo. The laws regarding felony disenfranchisement vary from state to state. Currently two states, Maine and Vermont, do not restrict a felon’s right to vote even while they are in prison. As long as they meet the requirements like age and residency, they can vote. The other forty-eight vary from “automatic restoration after release” to restoration only by pardon in some instances. And the situation is always in flux. Florida voters, for example, passed a constitutional amendment in 2018 that changed their felony disenfranchisement laws. Previously, Florida had been among the most restrictive states in the country. Now, most felons are automatically re-enfranchised as soon as they finish the entirety of their sentence. This policy affects a surprising number of people. In November of 2018, it was estimated that felony disenfranchisement kept 6.1 million Americans from voting. Perhaps that number should not be so surprising, since one can be charged with a felony for possessing as little as half an ounce of marijuana. It’s partly because of this, that Desmond Meade has coordinated opposition to these laws from groups as diverse as the ACLU and the Christian Coalition. In his words, “[w]hen a debt is paid, it’s paid…. We don’t care how you might vote or whether you vote at all, but every American citizen deserves that opportunity to at least earn the eligibility to vote again."

    One of the biggest objections to felony disenfranchisement is its racial history and implications. Felony disenfranchisement laws gained popularity in one of the darker chapters of this country’s history. During Reconstruction, after the Civil War, many states adopted these laws and other laws they thought would cause the disenfranchisement of African Americans. Supporters of the policy deny that it is racist at all. In fact, Roger Clegg, who has served in the US Justice Department multiple times, posits that laws like these “may have a disproportionate impact on some racial groups, because at any point in time there are always going to be some groups that statistically commit more crimes than others, but that doesn’t make the laws racist." In Washington v Davis, the Court observed that “an invidious discriminatory purpose may often be inferred from the totality of the relevant facts, including the fact, if it be true, that the law bears more heavily on one race than another." Consider that despite similar or even lower rates of use, African Americans are vastly more likely to be arrested for illegal drugs than whites. It is also true that, as Dr. Fosten notes, “[i]n contemporary United States today, it is completely legal to discriminate against convicted felons in just about all the ways that it was once previously legal to discriminate against African Americans." Further, it cannot be coincidence that the more African Americans reside in a state, the more restrictive their felony disenfranchisement laws are likely to be. The totality of these relevant facts add up to a fairly obvious inference.

    With the racist baggage that comes with these laws, one might wonder: why disenfranchise felons at all? The purpose of any punitive measure is divided into a few different facets. Some measures serve to rehabilitate the criminal; some to deter crime. Rehabilitation is about functional reintegration into society — imparting mindsets and skillsets to make the individual capable of contributing when he or she finishes his or her sentence. Obviously, there is no rehabilitative function to disenfranchisement. On the contrary, it removes one of the ways that an individual contributes.

    Removing rehabilitation as a possible intent leaves deterrence. Deterrence can be divided into two different types. A specific deterrence is one which dissuades a specific individual from committing crime. This is a kind of punishment designed to keep a criminal from reoffending. Suspending driving privileges after a DUI conviction is an example of a specific deterrence. Indefinite loss of one’s voting rights cannot possibly be a specific deterrent. The right continues to be unavailable and cannot be further removed. General deterrence, on the other hand, does not focus on a specific individual. It, in a sense, has nothing to do with the criminal being punished at all. A general deterrence is one which dissuades the populace as a whole from committing a crime. An individual drives within the speed limit because the police and/or courts will levy a fine for that infraction. This is a general deterrence. This, then, is the possible objective for disenfranchisement: the threat of that punishment may deter the populace from offending.

    However, there are a few problems with using disenfranchisement as a deterrent. The first problem with it is that it is not a widely known consequence. In a 2009 study, Bryan Lee Miller of Georgia Southern University’s Department of Criminal Justice and Criminology interviewed 54 ex-felons. He and Laura E. Agnich found that “the majority of ex-offenders did not know about their loss of voting rights until after the commission of their offense." As a matter of fact, four of them tried to register to vote because they didn’t realize, even then, that they were ineligible. Miller specifically notes the relative obscurity of the loss of rights “[decreases] their value as a general deterrent."

    Another snag is in the way it actually hinders rehabilitation. Typically, part of a felon’s sentence is a period of parole or probation. The purpose of this time is to ease the transition from highly-supervised prison life to completely unsupervised “normal” life. Ex-convicts must relearn how to set their own expectations and routines to function in a free society. After finishing that process, they are labeled once again normal citizens. But, with this policy, they are not fully citizens. Gerald Fosten, a Doctor in Political Science describes them as “[living] a caste-like underclass and super-underclass existence” due to being “locked out from fully participating” socially and politically. This becomes intuitive if one examines the theory behind punishment and sanctions. The effectiveness of a punishment varies based on a couple of factors: whether the punished considers it fair, and his or her connection with the community. The biggest hurdle to integration with a community is the label of “other.” When an ex-prisoner is denied access to jobs, housing, educational opportunities, that label is applied and reinforced. When he or she is further denied access to the ballot box, it is even further reinforced. Those social bonds that connect individual with community are weakened even before they can be established. Clegg asserts that “two out of three felons who are released from prison commit another crime, and it is ridiculous to assert that the reason they do so is that they can’t vote." But a lack of a sense of belonging to the community — the feeling that they are “other” — combined with feeling unfairly punished increases, rather than decreases, the likelihood that an ex-felon will reoffend.

    Despite these objections, felony disenfranchisement laws still find support. In fact, US courts have held that disenfranchisement is not a punishment at all, but merely a regulation of eligible voters. However, Judge Wingate called it “the harshest civil sanction imposed by a democratic society." Typically, defenders of felony disenfranchisement laws simply say that ex-convicts just don’t deserve the vote and group them with other residents of the country that are not allowed to do so: non-citizens, the mentally incompetent, and children. The latter two categories are individuals assessed as incapable of self-sufficience. Non-citizens are not allowed to participate in government because they are not represented by it — they presumably have loyalties to other nations. But ex-felons are citizens; they are represented by various levels of government. To deny them a voice in choosing it is contrary to the most basic tenets of a representative democracy. Also, as Fosten points out, felons tend to be “politically informed and engaged." Finally, supporters like Michael Mukasey contend that a felony conviction imbues a “taint that should require that one at least show some brief period of law-abiding existence before full readmission to the polity," which, of course, ignores parole and probation: periods of supervised, law-abiding existence.

    Felony disenfranchisement laws are racist. They cannot rehabilitate and do not deter crime. People make bad decisions, and should be punished accordingly, but courts should administer justice, not injustice. It is far past time for this injustice to be righted.

A Vital Endeavor

    Space: it has baffled and inspired mankind for millennia. It is fascinating and enticing, but at the same time, cold and unfeeling. It’s the epitome of everything we don’t know about our universe. So we investigate, and we explore. But should we? Why should we spend billions of dollars hurtling complicated equipment and some of our finest people into the harsh void just to learn about it? Technological gains, understanding of our own planet, and scouting for an escape plan make space exploration a vital endeavor.

    It takes great expenditure to explore the universe. Lots of complicated systems and mechanisms had to be developed to keep people and equipment safe in an inherently unsafe environment. If all those developments stayed floating in orbit, they would still be worthwhile just for the security it lends those few who go there. But they don’t stay in space. The gadgets and gizmos and technological marvels often find use among the Earthbound masses. Scratch-resistant lenses used for glasses, memory foam used for mattresses, global positioning systems used to navigate everything from naval ships and army tanks to cars and smartphones were all developed by NASA for use in the space program. Paul Vernon, a broker who works with the European Space Agency, noticed that when tiny cantilevers designed to adjust the positions of mirrors on satellites were dropped in liquid, the rate at which they bent depended on the viscosity of that liquid. He soon realized that this could literally be a life-saver for patients at risk of strokes or heart attacks. These patients need to test their blood viscosity regularly: too thin and they risk bleeding profusely, too thick and they risk clots. He founded Microvisk, which now makes handheld blood viscosity sensors.

    Beyond pushing engineers to think up new doohickeys to make our lives easier or more comfortable, space exploration also helps scientists learn more about our own planet. Just having people and systems in orbit has enabled governments all over the globe to direct efforts to combat wildfires and relief to those stricken by natural disasters. Many of those systems also help scientists understand our climate with better accuracy and in more detail. NASA designed a mission, Gravity Recovery and Climate Experiment (GRACE), to study Earth’s gravity field. Through its sensors, it was able to “see” changes in water distribution throughout the planet. Not only did GRACE show water tables dropping and drought conditions spreading, but also the loss of hundreds of billions of tons of ice in Greenland and Antarctica. Currently, Earth stands alone as the one hospitable speck in the known universe — one tiny oasis in the infinite desert of space. The more scientists learn about the delicate balance in the biosphere, the better equipped the human race is to keep it functioning.

    However, regardless of everything done to ensure that the Earth stays habitable for as long as possible, it is inevitably doomed. According to scientists, in roughly four or five billion years, the sun will have fused all its hydrogen into helium and begin fusing the helium into carbon. That switch-over will cause it to abruptly expand and engulf the first few planets, including the Earth. But no one need wait quite that long. Astrophysicists calculate that the sun brightens about ten percent every billion years, so all of the water will boil off the planet more than a billion years before it is consumed. Those unavoidable scenarios are a long way off, surely, but those are only the scenarios that are certain. If the Earth survives for 3.5 billion years, it will be a barren husk of a planet. If it survives another billion, it will become so much fuel for the expanding sun’s growth. However, there are plenty of other scenarios which, though less certain, are certainly more imminent on the timeline. Phil Plait lists some of them in his book Death From the Skies! These Are the Ways the World Will End. There is a one-in-ten million chance, for example, of a star exploding into a supernova within twenty-five light years of Earth, which would kill all of Earth’s life. He states that the odds of an asteroid large enough to end all life impacting the planet within a human lifetime as one in 700,000. This sounds very unlikely, but it’s still more likely than a person being killed in a terrorist attack. Besides, how many lifetimes does it take before this unlikely event is likely or even certain? Neil deGrasse Tyson, renowned astrophysicist and science communicator, said of space exploration: “It's vital to our prosperity and security.” If the human race is to survive in perpetuity, it must have a way to escape the planet.

    Critics argue that even traveling at a million miles an hour, it would take four thousand years to reach the nearest star system that might be hospitable. While that’s true, it’s a problem that cannot be solved without experimentation. There are several avenues currently being pursued to solve it. New drive systems are theorized and investigated, including fantastical ideas like bending space-time to get around the physical limitations of relativity. Experiments in long-term isolation run constantly, both on Earth and in space, to test and improve people’s abilities to survive extended voyages. Sailing a ship all the way around the globe was impossible until Ferdinand Magellan did it in the sixteenth century. Powered flight was a pipe dream until it wasn’t, thanks to Orville and Wilbur Wright. The current state of technology would be hard pressed to get a viable population to a distant world, but the only way to make progress is to progress. In order to complete the journey, one must first step forward.

    Of course, there are challenges associated with space exploration. Space is as dangerous as it is enticing. But there are rewards for those who dare to face those challenges. We gain technologies to improve our lives. We gain understanding of the planet that gives us life. Though it seems impossible, we find a new home and a means to reach it, hopefully before the clock runs out and this home dies. For the sake of humanity, the living and the yet to be born, we must continue stepping forward on our journey of exploration. It’s a vital endeavor.

The Greatest Story Ever Told

    In 1974, two guys in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin made a game. Not unlike the table-top war games they were playing, Dungeons and Dragons (D&D) revolved around combat. But instead of pitting army against army, players would create individual characters to pit against mythical beasts. This game has grown a rich role-playing tradition, and in recent years has spawned several series online where one can watch people play. One of these shows, Critical Role, is my favorite media property of all time. Critical Role’s characters, actors, story, and sincerity make it one of the most compelling shows aired anywhere.

    What first drew me in were the characters. Each one is thoroughly distinct and very fleshed out. Vax’ildan (Liam O’Brien) and Vex’ahlia (Laura Bailey) are half-elven twins whose human mother was killed by a dragon while they were being raised by an indifferent elven father. Pike (Ashley Johnson), the gnomish cleric rescued and nursed to health a goliath barbarian named Grog (Travis Willingham), who had been beaten and left for dead by his uncle Kevdak, who ruled the herd they both called family. There is depth and nuance, even from the outset. Lord Percival Fredrickstein Von Mussel Klossowski de Rolo III, or Percy (Taliesin Jaffe), is an aristocrat whose entire family was murdered by the mysterious Lord and Lady Briarwood, which eventually led to him inventing guns - a good man continually haunted by the evil he fights and the evil he fears he has become.
    Behind the amazing characters lie phenomenal, talented actors. They completely embody their characters on Critical Role, even though they don’t act them out in the traditional sense. Sam Riegel regularly breaks into song in order to activate the powers of his character Scanlan, a gnomish bard. Marisha Ray, who is normally assertive and gregarious, is convincing as the perpetually insecure Keyleth, a half-elven Druid who hopes to find her confidence in time to lead her tribe. Matthew Mercer is the dungeon master (DM), who created the world and sets the stage these characters battle on. He consistently astounds, not only the audience, but his friends and cast mates, by continually coming up with distinct and memorable characters for the players to interact with. No one who has seen them could possibly forget Viktor, the black powder merchant’s three-fingered advice: “Learn from my mistakes!” Nor could he be even remotely mistaken for Vecna, the Undying King that the group must stop from becoming a god.

    Because the players were well-established actors before the show, or the home game it grew out of, began, they all have a good sense of storytelling that helps inform their choices. Not only do character decisions make sense for the characters making them, but they also drive a supremely entertaining narrative. The relationships between player characters grow organically from the things they do and experience instead of being imposed on them by the DM. The story is so compelling that thousands of people from all over the world watch them air D&D live every week despite broadcasting four to six hours per episode. Those who absolutely cannot watch live watch rebroadcasts and even rewatch the more than eighteen days of runtime.

    Beyond the story that has captivated so many people who watch, is the truth that what we’re actually watching is a group of good friends who are playing a game. They played this game for years before it was a show. Were it to end today, they’d go back to playing it in their homes. Unlike almost any other show I’ve ever seen, one gets to see the actual people that one is seeing. When a person watches Ashley Johnson on NBC’s Blindspot, there is little of Ashley on the screen. She is 100% Agent Patterson. When she is on Critical Role, Pike Trickfoot is evident, but one also sees Ashley reacting to events or making jokes out of character. These are people who genuinely care for each other. When Sam, in the final showdown with Vecna, is forced to use an ability that he had hoped to save to help Liam’s character, Vax, he can’t contain his tears, even though from a game standpoint, it’s a triumph. He’s absolutely gutted because he feels like he’s failed his best friend. And we weep with him — when we realize what has happened.

    There are shows with characters that draw you in. There are shows whose actors impress you with their ability to embody their roles. There are shows with rich storylines. There are even shows with real, genuine people bringing the fun of Dungeons and Dragons to your living room, or bedroom, or that quiet corner of the library where you plug in to watch. But these characters, by these actors, in this storyline, behaving this sincerely, set Critical Role apart as one of the most compelling shows on any medium.

My Vision in Blues

    Sometimes, love grows patiently from familiar friendship. Sometimes it searches and hunts: in bars, churches, and on websites. Sometimes, love comes down the stairs, stuns you silly, and sweeps you off your feet.

    I enlisted in the Air Force in April of 1994. In late May, I graduated from Basic Training and was transferred to the Defense Language Institute (DLI) in Monterey for “tech school.” This was where the Air Force was going to teach me to do the job it wanted me to do. In order to ease the transition to the regimented environment of life in the “regular” Air Force from the highly regimented environment of Basic Training, tech schools have implemented a four-phase program with progressively fewer restrictions. The most significant change comes between second phase, in which a person is required to wear a uniform every time he leaves the building and has a curfew seven days a week, and third phase, in which he is only required to wear a uniform during duty hours and has no curfew over the weekend.

    This is where I was on Saturday, July 23rd: on the cusp of third phase. Sunday morning, at midnight, I would get to taste freedom for the first time in months. But there was no need to wait for midnight for the fun to begin. My roommate, Andy, and I had a plan: get into our blues uniforms and head down to the Enlisted Club for a few hours, head back to the room by 11 (our curfew), have an hour to change, then head out at midnight looking for fun and excitement in our real-people clothes.

    On our way out, we swung by the main stairwell to sign out with the Dorm Guard — we were still on phase, after all. I was delighted to see Joan, one of my first friends at DLI — she had fed me freshly baked cookies during my first lonely weekend when most folks had fled the base to do whatever it is they did.

    “Going to the E-Club?”

    I was so excited, I could barely contain my response. “Yeah. Then, we’ll phase up at midnight, and who knows after that!”

    “Would you mind escorting a friend of mine?” She asked. “She’s a bit nervous walking through the woods in the dark.”

    Of course I agreed, and Joan called up the stairs “Saundra? I have some friends that will walk with you,” and she descended. A vision in blues, she was wearing tight jeans and a two-tone, curve-hugging body suit with laces that half-hid and half-accentuated her cleavage. Her face glowed. I was acutely aware of her strong cheekbones and the most adorable gap between her front teeth. Dumbstruck, I was barely able to introduce myself.

    Nevertheless, on Joan’s recommendation, she joined us, walking down the hill in the darkness of insufficient lighting in the woods, a princess flanked by her military escort. We came to a section where the hill is so steep, irregular cement steps had been embedded into the hillside. Saundra didn’t see well in low light and was wearing heels, so she requested an arm to steady herself. My excitement for approaching freedom had soared to giddiness at approaching freedom next to a beautiful woman, so rather than offer her my arm, I simply scooped her up and carried her down the stairs, as if over a threshold.

    If you ask her today, Saundra will tell you that I said, “Never fear, Milady. I shall carry you.” I don’t remember saying anything like that, but my memories have been a bit hazy since she came down the stairs in the barracks. In any case, that is the moment that she says she knew. I didn’t even realize the next night, when we sat on a park bench looking out at Monterey Bay for three hours; I’m a bit slow. But we’ve been married for twenty-one years now. Sometimes, when you least expect it, love comes downstairs, stuns you silly, and sweeps you off your feet.