Jive Monkey Gold: Engaged!

This post originally ran last May. Since this time, the young couple tied the knot. Jason says he's not sorry, but I don't know ... 8-)

Engaged!

Two Nightriders got enganged to each other Friday night. Yes, I know. Inbreeding. But when superheroes do it, you don't get two heads. Or if you do, you can just chalk it up to "special superhero powers".
Former winner of the Jive To The Monkey Friend Of The Day award, "Nature Boy" Jason proposed to my evil twin, Pinhead Stacey. Total surprise for her. I must say, Jason played his part to perfection.
Stacey's cousin owns a house on the riverfront in Jeffersonville. A house with a stuffed bat hanging from the stairs. They went out for the evening (which was part of the whole engagement dinner plan) so Jason and Stacey had the place to themselves. He took her to their back deck, where they dined alone on scrumptious fare cooked and served by Joel The Metro (who wore a bow tie) and Miss Amanda. Then at 9:30, yours truly walked out onto the second story deck and seranaded them with "I Want To Grow Old With You," from "The Wedding Singer." It's the song Adam Sandler sings in the movie's climax, on the airplane.

Okay, some backstory. I was about 10 minutes late because I was coming from Guitar Chick Nikki's show at Lachlan Coffee's Java on Frankfort Avenue. Now, here is my problem: I am directionally challenged. Perhaps instead of B-Dog, my nickname should be Wrong Way Gilles. See, I often become disoriented, and I start out going the wrong way. As you could imagine, if you start out going in the wrong direction, nothing else will make sense.
I was driving east instead of west, jamming to my Ray Lamontagne CD, when all of a sudden I realized that I TOTALLY didn't recognize anything I was passing. No streets, landmarks, stores, etc. OH CRAP! I had been driving the wrong way for miles.
I spun around and headed back to civilization, just as Joel called on my cell, asking where I was. But I must say, I put my Dale Earnhardt-loving, NASCAR-watching skills to good use and I kicked some serious road-racing butt to reach my destination without much delay. Good thing I didn't run into any cops.
So I got in place on the second story balcony, guitar in hand, music stand in front of me, and began playing. One problem. The wind off the river kept blowing my lyric book shut! There were a couple random "rests" (that's some sheet music lingo that I'm using as code for "I had to stop strumming and flip the page back) before I figured out how to hold the page open with my guitar neck while I played.
Afterwards, Joel, Amanda, and I watched from a second-story window while Jason got down on his knee and proposed. It was the coolest, most special thing I've ever seen, next to the births of my sons.
Then they started kissing. And kissing. And kissing. Randy little couple. The Anderson's and I were still watching, though we gradually started to feel as if perhaps this peep show should be discontinued. See, we had intended to step out onto the deck when they were done and clap for them. That's why we kept watching. But that was one long kiss. I said, "I feel like a pervert, watching through the window." That's the Nightriders for ya -- "Voyeurs-R-Us."
Finally they came up for air, we clapped, and they invited us onto the ground-level deck to celebrate.
Jason had given her a ring that belonged to his grandma -- an authentic heirloom. How special -- I hope she doesn't accidentally drop it down a drain or anything, but this IS Pinhead I'm talking about, so you never know ....

Congratulations, Jason. Sorry you were so nervous that you spilled stuff on your shirt, but she said yes anyway so it's all good. Congratulations, Stacey. Truth is, you're barely human, but you and the rest of us have played our parts so well over the course of this courtship that Jason thinks you're a catch.

Seriously, congratulations to both of you. I'm proud to be in your lives, and to have witnessed the birth of your friendship and the maturation, which I am sure will continue, to quote Shakespeare, "to the last syllable of recorded time."