Fifty Five Shades of Bray

I was putzing around in the attic last week when I came upon an old Hanover Storage moving box. It was marked Honeymoon. Wow, how’d this escape the horrifying space cleansing purges of the past 31 years? Like a paparazzi peeking in on the Duchess of Cambridge’s vacation, I smiled and opened the top.

It lay right on top, slightly yellowed, and clearly suffering from a T-Bone with a Bloody Mary, but otherwise intact. No ugly editing scrawls and there on the bottom the signature of my bride, the terrorist, and the happy groom, yours truly, totally legible in what my chicken-scratch must have looked like 500,000 check signatures ago.

I recalled having it sprung on me like the Gangnam dance phenomenon; right after the stewardess delivered my first Mary on our Honeymoon flight. I reclined with a smile on my face and my Ray-Bans on my nose. We had made the flight despite just two hours of sleep after a sixty minute torture test drive from Buffalo to Toronto in Bray’s Monza that Sunday morning nearly 32 years ago. We were on our way to Hawaii and two weeks of fun followed by a lifetime of devotion. Ah, married life. Then she slid the document in front of me.

“What’s this?“ I babbled.

“It’s our Contract” she whispered and her eyelashes batted -..- “You dumbshit” in semaphore code.

“Come again?” I offered completely confused.

“That’s exactly what won’t be happening to you until you sign this Contract” she smiled offering up a pen. “And don’t bother to read or negotiate. Just sign it” she said while I winced.

So there it was. I picked it up and held it in my hands (remembering how I had stubbed my Mary on the seat tray putting it down to grab the paper, spilling the drink on the paper. CONTRACT typed probably with my own Smith-Corona typewriter (probably the most advanced ever manufactured) on the top of the document.

“I need a cigarette. Can I have one of your Larks? My Camel Lights were emptied by three last night” How hard it must be to spring one of these on someone with today’s flying rules.

It was a list of things she wouldn’t do. No this, No that. Never-ever those. I remembered what an odd assortment of constraints it had seemed at that moment and shook my head at how she had remained true to its contents without having kept the document at the ready for referral.

• I will not sweat. Wow. That’s become Bray’s motto. Bray didn’t sweat this year when we skied at Beaver Creek or Vail in March, connecting with the Flowers, Vieths, James and Kira. She made her 8th trip to Ethiopia in January to train SelamtaFamilyProject.org mothers on the sewing machines she bought (with your contributions…thank you!) along with Joy Wasz. Why Ethiopia? Because the temperature never goes over 75 on account of the altitude. Bray played Mah-Jong more than most people play crosswords or sudoku combined. (December Temple Beth-El tournament champ too!) Have you ever seen anyone sweat in Mah-Jong? I got several golf games in with Elizabeth this year, but Bray joined only when the temperature was less than 75.

• I will not do blood. I guess this was a warning she would never visit me in the hospital, which is almost totally true after nearly 32 years. I take cabs home from the hospital. Moreover, Bray does her best to avoid any chance of seeing her kid’s blood. James’ rugby games this year for the Boston Rugby Club as a wing…Bray saw one. She did put the eye blinders on for the post-op convalescence when James had a surprise appendectomy in August. Elizabeth’s Tough Mudder and half-marathon in September and October…sorry, Mah Jong tournaments prevented her attendance. John’s cross country trip this summer? “Billy, could you check John’s new Facebook post to see if I can look at it (i.e. no sign of blood)?” Mitch-a-palooza X the day after Thanksgiving went off without any cuts from broken bottles or hospital visits while raising a remarkable $3,000 for the SelamtaFamilyProject.org project. If Bray was a vampire she’d have to be on IV for nourishment.

• I will not stay at a Day’s Inn. I don’t know what she had against Day’s Inns, but this marks 31 consecutive years without hitting one. Well, as the kids remind me, there was one in Colorado Springs once, but brother Jimmy booked that night so that violation was not on me. We had two great trips this year to London/Paris/Berlin in the winter and spring with a few stories to share in person about baggage security and Mr. Springsteen. We spent four weeks at our lake house in New Hampshire with visits from the Sweatts, Dawn Nicoloff Fleming, Stanley Weil, Doug Bray, and the kids. And included an evening with the Doobie Brothers and Chicago for my birthday after taking in Bruce and his E Street Band at Fenway with James for his birthday (Thanks T-Bags!). The other highlight was clearly the Sweatt’s canoe excursion that ended up looking like the last trip of the Costa Concordia (and Brian would have given Captain Schettino a real run for his money at the Breathalyzer table). We hit a Hampton Inn for Jessica Sweatt’s wedding to Luke Saalfield in June. Eli followed her mother’s lead and opted for the “rustic country retreat” instead of the Day’s Inn when she was Maid of Honor for a Carolina wedding and got asked to dance by a southern gentleman.

• I will not leave Florida in April. I remembered how this one had given me pause when I read this on the plane. “Oh that’s just for when the kids are gone and I’ve stopped working” she had said. She lost me at kids so I had ignored “stopped working” altogether. Of course now it dawned on me how I’d been had on Bray’s 2011 rental property strategy for places in Sanibel and Fort Myers. The Fort Myers place got an upgrade in 2012 as we added our first pool to any house I’ve ever been associated with (“It’ll make it easier to rent”). So we visited Florida a couple times in April to see Bray when there were no Mah-Jong tournament conflicts and got to hang with new boozehag friend Pam Hopkins as well as with Paul and Becky Freas. We also got to enjoy our kids and Geoffrey Greene who came down to help the “Going off like a North Korean Rocket” team capture the Trivia Tournament (see attached picture) and put golf balls into the water hazards. Bray also reunited with the now retired Karen Haley Allison from Buffalo, who now lives down the road, Dawn and Debra Bramwell also visited.

• I will not take out the recycle. This recollection had made me LOL in the attic. When I first read this I asked her what recycle was and I clearly remember her saying “What are you asking questions for? You’re just an accountant, just sign it.” As time moved along I learned what recycle was and lo and behold, Bray never does recycle, well recycle the way most of y’all know it. We did recycle the Dartmouth 77s including Messer’s Replogle and Silver, on our front porch for their reunion in June. We also recycled the Colby Sawyer alums in the area (and the College made a nice gesture in recognizing our contribution to help build a turf field in New London made of recycled tires). I recycled Bray’s Coor’s Lights from her expedition to the Bills-Jets game with James, Betsy and friends, the Klinges’ and the Turoff’s. Mr. Springsteen was recycled twice at the Meadowlands in September with the Engels then three nights later with Eli for her birthday. Bray’s SelamtaFamilyProject.org Porch sale of recycled stuff rose over $6,000 for the organization. Finally, after seven year-ends, and six years living near the epicenter of recycling in Newark, NJ, we announced in November that I would leave audible.com at the end of January and, hence, I am recycling my resume. We had a great run at Audible and I am enormously proud of the contributions I made to help the missionaries there, but the time finally arrived when I realized it will be more fun and impactful to use my skills helping another team substantially improve their situation. Did I mention there were no Mah-Jong leagues in Newark? Bray is very happy about any new adventure involving a change of venue.

I’ve come a long way since I signed this contract with Bray. I realized looking at it how lucky I was to marry someone who knew exactly what she didn’t want. I also have realized how lucky I have been that Bray, as well as our kids and many of you, have helped me enormously in the past 15 months to find out what I wanted when I finally understood there was something I didn’t want to do. I am most appreciative of so many of you who physically and silently offered me support on October 22, 2012 through FB and in person as I celebrated one year of *notting*, and this really helped me find my stride through what had been a challenging year. As when Bray gave me this contract, I have realized that in adventure, there is nothing to fear when you have friendship and support of so many. Please let us know if you ever need a roof in Hanover (or a vacation in Sanibel ☺) or if Bray, our kids or I can ever be of any help to you or your family. Living up to this Christian Grey-like contract would have been impossible without y’all as part of our journey.

Peace brothers and sisters,