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The First Adventure

Date: May 16, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

“For there is a price ticket on everything that puts a whizz into life, and adventure follows the rule. It’s distressing, but there you are.” (Leslie Charteris)

One adventure of my most recent business trip, was the opportunity to address a crowd of several thousand people. As I manage the philanthropic efforts of my company, my topic was service to others and making the world a better place. Here’s an edited excerpt:

“On the plains of Texas and Oklahoma, trees were sometimes rare and precious things and there was a tradition that recognized the responsibility of one generation for the next. Homesteaders, once their house was built, the well dug and the first crops harvested, planted their ‘grandchildren grove.’ Farmers read scores of seed catalogs to select a particular type of pecan tree—hardy and strong, able to withstand deep winters and torrid summers—and sent off carefully hoarded money.

In due time, a tree hardly larger than a switch arrived. The farmers placed the roots in water, dug a hole, planted the trees, and watered them carrying bucketful after bucketful from their wells. The pecan trees weren’t for their benefit. Pecan trees grow very slowly, the farmers would be dead and gone long before the groves they planted provided substantial shade or nuts. Some felt work that went unrewarded for generations was a waste, but farmers who planted pecan trees weren’t planting the trees for themselves. They were creating a legacy for others.

In the 1870s, my great-great grandfather left his native country of Denmark for Utah and established a homestead. He built a dwelling on the property, worked the land for a number of years and eventually it became his. He built this house—lived in a tiny upstairs accessed by a ladder on the outside of the structure while his sheep lived in the room below him! His effort sustained his life and became a legacy.  Who can predict the value of one person’s life well-lived, the service they provide or the impact of a legacy? In my experience, you can’t, because it’s limitless.

I was reminded of that fact 140 years after he established his legacy, because his legacy literally saved me when I unexpectedly became single—without a home, money or assets—the sole parent and support of my four children. What began as a little homestead and then became his legacy, sustained me and my children for a time and helped us get our start in building and creating a new life.

What is your legacy? How are you demonstrating your commitment to making a difference in the world, making the world a better place? Your legacy is the service you provide, the mark you make on the world while you’re here and the one you will leave behind when you are gone. Although our days are numbered, may our good works never be!”

After the speech ended, I went about my other business duties at my company’s event. But as usually happens after a speech, I met people who recognized me as the woman who spoke on stage, they’d introduce themselves and we’d have a great discussion about the impact of service, making the world better or they’d share how someone had touched their life by serving them. What I didn’t expect was any discussion about anything else. But as I’ve said before, in life, you get unexpected adventures.

A man approached, introduced himself, told me how much he’d enjoyed my remarks and what an amazing woman I was. He was quite effusive in his praise, it made me start to think, “Wow, my speech must have been even better than I thought!” And then the man moved on to the topic of being a single parent, surviving hard things, told me we had a lot in common, what a strong woman I must be, how much he admired me and how nice it was to meet me. (I know, I know, I’ve always been slow to catch on to these types of things, haven’t I? And apparently two times through the singles scene, in the 1980s and again in 2009-2010, didn’t make my instincts any sharper!)

It suddenly dawned on me that the man was single and apparently thought I still was! He continued to talk (and compliment me) and I began to notice he was still holding my hand from our initial handshake. And then his talk turned to the idea of destiny, including that it was more than a coincidence that we were involved at the same company, at the same event, and that it was fate that we meet.

I withdrew my hand as politely as I could, thanked him for his kind words, told him it had been a pleasure to meet him and added, “And what a blessing it is to get through those hard times! It’s so nice to be out of mine, to have life move on and to have it all come together again in great happiness.” (Or something like that. I was kind of flustered about the man’s mistaken impression and was almost panicked that I’d apparently given an auditorium of people the wrong impression about my marital status—despite the fact I’m very open about my marital status and I stood there wearing my wedding ring during my speech AND while meeting the single man!)

I went back to my work duties, laughed at that “unexpected” adventure and quickly forgot it. Until the next time the man sought me out. And the next time. And when his next conversation began with, “Can you believe we keep running into each other like this? It must be more than destiny!” (all the while, he’s clutching my hand in his) I began to think it was more than destiny too. I thought it was like many other travel experiences I’ve had—trips to Disneyland, cruises, whatever—where I’ve noticed the same person/family or run into the same person/family over and over again for a STRANGE reason (usually because they stand out because they’re “odd”!) I emphasized, again, that I was married and didn’t run into my new friend again after that. Adventure over.

Until I got home, returned to work, checked my email and had a new Facebook friend request! From you-know-who!

“Boldness be my friend.” (William Shakespeare)

My First Audition—Almost

Date: April 12, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Simon would not want to audition in front of Simon.” (Paula Abdul)

Have you ever looked at your life and wondered how you got there? That happened to me the other day. I call it, “The Audition.” Get ready.

I confess I never imagined “audition” and “Andrea” would be mentioned in the same sentence, much less in connection with my life, unexpected or otherwise. But sometimes in life, you get things you never expected! (Wise words, where have I read them before…Oh, yes, in the “About Me” section of this blog.)

One night my husband was talking to me about a theater opportunity he was going to audition for. He made the mistake of mentioning how much the job paid and without thinking (because I’m always trying to figure out ways to enhance my income–still short every month, three years later, darn it) I said, “Really? Maybe I should audition!”

Did I REALLY just say that?

It came out of my mouth on a whim, as a joke or a warped version of wishful thinking in the way you dream of being the recipient of a little extra money…but  before I knew it, my husband was off and running with the idea. He began planning: talked to me all about it, told me what to expect, said he’d help me work up a song to audition with, and when his married son dropped by, he started telling “everyone” (his children and my children and that always leads to information shared to many others:) what I was up to. Sort of a problem for me.

First, I hadn’t figured out how I was going to tell my kids that I was considering attempting something crazy. Second, I was still thinking I was in the “considering it” phase, not actually “planning to do it.” Third, believe it or not and contrary to what this blog may imply, I like to do things without having everyone know about it unless I choose to put it out there, like in this blog, and I always put it out there after the fact—after I’ve experienced it, processed it, mentally recovered from it and made sure enough time has passed I’m not imposing on anyone’s privacy. And fourth, in remarriage with children those opportunities for total privacy are few and far between. It feels like other parties always have to be notified of something we’re planning and thus, know my business almost as quickly as I do, so I relish the few things not connected to parenting/children that my husband and I can do without informing or involving anyone else…and then he told the kids right off the bat! (I know, I know, I’m hypersensitive where boundaries are concerned. I’m pretty sure it’s just an issue I have, but it has been a challenge because our two different families with two different cultures, which includes completely different ideas about boundaries, expectations and everything else, don’t always align. What’s normal to one family and the way they’ve always done it, doesn’t necessarily mesh with my expectations or isn’t how my family has always done it…you get the picture. Lets just say marriage, and especially remarriage, is a continual lesson in compromise, among many other things, is it not?)

Over the next few days, my husband continued to talk about the audition like it was a reality and I was really going to do it, left potential audition songs for me on the piano, and finally, the night before the audition, sat me down at the piano, had me sing a few songs, and selected one for me to master. Which led to an impromptu singing lesson because as he gave me vocal direction I could only look at him with a blank face. “Huh?” I frequently questioned. “What does that mean?” He’d demonstrate, we’d work on it and after quite a bit of time, he told me we were ready to leave it and he made a plan for us to go to the audition the next morning together.

As I stood in my living room, singing a solo in front of my husband and trying to sing in a more classical style (a huge challenge for me, lets just say I was Madonna on a cruise ship for a reason!), I had a hard time not laughing. I just kept thinking, “What in the heck am I doing? How did I get myself into this? This is NOT me. Didn’t I say I was never going to sing in public? I never would have imagined, on our first date, that someday my husband would be giving me a singing lesson…preparatory to an AUDITION!” Yet there I stood, preparing to do that very thing on the morrow.

And then wouldn’t you know it, after all of that time, work, effort and near humiliation I finally thought to check my calendar…and discovered I have a big work event scheduled the same weekend the show opens. Even if I were good enough (by some fluke) to make the show on the very first audition of my life, they’d never cast me if I were going to miss opening weekend performances!

I didn’t audition after all.

Saved by a scheduling conflict.

“A lot affects the outcome. It boils down to scheduling and the commitment of the network.” (David Ogden Stiers)

And that is the story of my first audition. Or the audition that actually didn’t happen. Whew—close call on that one!

The Blunders I Make

Date: February 2, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I’m more financially successful, but it just means the shopping blunders I make are bigger now.” (Cathy Guisewite)

I’m not more, or even successful at all, financially, now—in my unexpected life.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not capable of a shopping blunder on the rare occasions I venture into the retail arena, I proved that on my husband’s 50th birthday cruise. You can count the number of times since 2009 I’ve “gone shopping” on less than 10 fingers. (Why shop, or even “look” or window shop, why tempt yourself to spend money you don’t have, when you have no money?)

It happened after the candy store incident. (The moment in a store my husband accidentally called me by his ex-wife’s name. Poor guy! He’s only done that once but he’ll probably never live it down, especially since I’ve immortalized it in this blog:)

We were strolling along the sidewalk of a quaint eastern town when I glanced in a window of a store that looked like it sold all kinds of fun, unique, interesting, vintage, boutique-style items. I announced to the group, “I’m going in here. Does anyone want to come?” Everyone kept walking so I told my husband to tell the group to go ahead, I’d catch up, I just wanted to look in the store for a minute, and I headed inside.

To my surprise, my husband followed me. I thought, “Ah, new love! I’ve forgotten that the newlywed phase of marriage is so nice! How wonderful it is that my husband will follow me into a store simply for the sake of spending time with me. How nice of him. How patient.”

A few moments later, his brother joined us. I thought, “Wow. What nice men in this family—to follow their wife, or their sister-in-law, into a store so they won’t be alone. How chivalrous.”

I started to look around at the merchandise for sale and then suddenly it hit me. Just WHAT kind of store had I ventured into? Lets just say the items for sale were…inappropriate. Of a…suggestive nature. And the theme underlying everything appeared to be nudity and…private parts. OOPS.

“Oh my goodness!” I exclaimed. “What kind of store is this? This is NOT what I thought I was going to find in here!”

My husband laughed. “I wondered what you were doing shopping in a place like this,” he said. His brother agreed. “Yes, I didn’t expect you to shop in a place like this, but I was even more surprised that you announced to everyone where you were heading, so I had to come and see this for myself.”

Leave it to me to unknowingly stumble upon a store like that and to unwittingly go inside to shop. Only I would do something like that—and announce it to my mother-in-law, her sister, friends and other relatives, some of whom I was meeting for the first time! I quickly made my exit and caught up to the group. There were many an eyebrow raised in my direction, lets put it that way!

I’d finish this tale by saying, “Andrea Merriman does it again.” Only it’s Andrea Ramsey now. But apparently, I’m still blundering. You know what they say: ”A blunder at the right moment is better than cleverness at the wrong time.” (Carolyn Wells)

I guess.

Second Marriage Moment #29

Date: January 31, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I never made a mistake in grammar but one in my life and as soon as I done it I seen it.” (Carl Sandburg)

Lest I give the impression karaoke was the sole highlight of our cruise, there are a few other moments, in the interest of remarriage, worth mentioning.

The first took place in a candy store. My husband and our group were shopping and he called to me to look at something. Or at least he meant to. What actually came out of his mouth was…his ex-wife’s name!

I don’t know how every remarriage is, but I confess, it’s something I’d wondered about happening or worried might happen at some point, on either side, given we’d both been married for 20 years. Poor guy! Although he occasionally calls his children by the wrong names, he had made it through all 6 months of our dating, the almost 10 months of our engagement and the entire 7 1/2 months of our marriage without a slip.

And then he did it.

And to be honest, I was just glad it was him and not me that made a slip like that.

As soon as he said it, I saw him freeze, as did the rest of our group around him. I didn’t let him off the hook completely, though. I made a joke about it and then I continued on with what I was doing. My husband came right over to me and apologized, “I am SO sorry! I did not mean to do that, I can’t believe I just did that…” I told him not to worry about it, and I meant it.

As we left the store, he apologized for the mistake again. (He REALLY felt bad!) I told him, again, not to worry about it. I really wasn’t mad. I figure that although I don’t want it become a habit, I’m the woman who got him so that makes me pretty lucky. So lucky, in fact, I can overlook a one-time slip of the tongue. Especially when I’ve had my own moment of “brain freeze,” as well. (But that’s another blog post for another day.)

After all,  ”It ain’t what they call you, it’s what you answer to.” (W.C. Fields)

These days, it’s Mrs. Ramsey. And I couldn’t be happier.

Unexpected “Brotherhood”

Date: January 30, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

A few moments after our meeting, my husband’s old friend (now my new friend) caught me alone and quietly said, “I’m sure you could tell from my reaction that I know who you are.”

Yes, I’d noticed.

He then went on to express his sympathy for all that I had been through. He told me the day he’d heard about my former husband’s Ponzi scheme, his heart had broken for me and my children and that he knew many people who experienced those same feelings of sorrow on our behalf. He took the time to ask about me, how my children are doing and couldn’t have been nicer. Unexpectedly, in the course of that conversation, something in me began to change.

I realized I wasn’t worried, or ashamed, of anything I’ve lived through any more. I don’t think I’ll be hesitant to meet anyone ever again, regardless of the name they associate with me.

A few minutes later, his wife approached and said something so unexpected it changed my world. She, also, was very nice and told me we had something in common. For the life of me, I had no idea what that could possibly be! Then SHE dropped a bomb, sharing something very unexpected that we had in common and I was absolutely stunned! I was caught so off-guard all I could think to do was joke, “WHERE have you been? WHERE were you two years ago? I SO could have used a friend like you in 2009!”

Better late than never, I guess. And for some reason, meeting a good woman who lived through something similar to me, who shared her experience with me however briefly, helped the last few scales of shame (or whatever it is I’ve felt but didn’t realize I was still carrying with me) fall from my eyes. It’s totally gone. I don’t think I’ll want to hide my head, ever again, to have anyone know I’m the former Andrea Merriman.

I don’t think I’ll be cringing any longer when my husband introduces me to people; I won’t be afraid of what they’ll think of me—or him, for choosing to marry someone with past experiences like mine.

After all, “…let us never forget that mankind constitutes one great brotherhood; all born to encounter suffering and sorrow, and therefore bound to sympathize with each other.” (Albert Pike)

And to think: if it weren’t for karaoke, I wouldn’t have met my new friends, my new “brotherhood,” born of adversity and facilitated by empathy. Additional proof that life is unexpected and…amazing. Every encounter an opportunity to bless the life of another.

Do-Be-Do-Be-Do

Date: January 21, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Do be do be do.” (Frank Sinatra)

Too soon, the final night of the cruise, THE show, was upon me. I was dressed, I was ready to go (well, as ready as I’d ever be—HATING the costume, especially the wig I had to wear; filled with dread at what I was about to do; and unable to do anything but just get it over with.) The good news? I hated the wig so much, I was more focused on that than the fact I had to sing a solo in front of hundreds of strangers!

More good news? I wasn’t alone.

My husband was also in the show, dressed in a tuxedo and hat (looking very handsome, I might add!) to sing a Frank Sinatra song. He was backstage with me, sitting by me as we watched the show on monitors and waited for our call. As many times as I’ve sat in the audience and watched him perform, I confess I’ve wondered what he does backstage . Now I know. He says he sits and reads, but that night he sat and worried about another performer. And it wasn’t even me, it was Garth Brooks! (His brother, my brother-in-law, was singing a Garth Brooks song.) Apparently, the brother bond is stronger than even Madonna.

And before I knew it, my personal escort (the handsome young male dancer from Australia) came for me. They’d told us our escorts would walk us on stage, but instead, mine thrust the mike in my hand, whispered, “Go!” and sent me out into the spotlight alone as my boys (the male dancers in tight, tiny shorts and tight, tiny shirts with sequined “M”s on the front) started busting their moves.

I sang my song. I don’t think I forgot the words, but yet, I don’t have a clue what words I sang. My husband was right about the muscle memory thing though—somehow my mouth sang the words of its own volition, because all I was doing was standing there thinking, “What in the world have I gotten myself into? THIS isn’t what I do. The last time I was on-stage impersonating a pop star and singing for a crowd was 1982! I wonder how much longer this will take? I wonder who is in the crowd? How many people are in the theater? What did I just sing? Who does this type of thing at 44 years old? I must be crazy. I wonder what the male dancers are up to behind me?” and a host of other thoughts.

And then it was done. Over. Relief! I’m pretty sure the audience felt the same way.

That is the tale of my one chance in life to sing with a live band.

And I survived it.

“I’m for whatever gets you through the night.” (Frank Sinatra)

Another totally unexpected adventure in my unexpected life.

The 13th Clown

Date: January 20, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

Funny how a 7-day cruise flies by when you have to sing a solo in front of hundreds of people on the last night! At least, that’s how it was for me. Thank goodness for dress rehearsals!

Just kidding. I mean, it was nice to know where to stand on the stage (the big “X”). But I confess, it made me nervous when the handsome young cast member/dancer from Australia told me not to move too much as I sang…because my male backup dancers would be dancing all around me. Wearing short-shorts and tight tiny t-shirts. And their moves had to be something to behold (I couldn’t see them, as they were dancing behind me) because my husband commented several times about them.

Oh, good. Then the dance moves would match the lyrics.

The song? “Like A Virgin.”

When I heard what I had to sing, I wanted to die. ”I can’t sing this!” I told my husband.

“Sure you can, you’ve heard it before. You’re an 80s girl. You listened to Madonna, you know this song!” he remarked.

“Well apparently, I never listened to the words—or I didn’t understand them if I did,” I said. “I’m older now, I’m a newlywed, and I can’t believe them! I should be mortified!” I exclaimed. (Thank goodness for Ponzi schemes, crime, public divorce and familial downfall to take away any sense of mortification or humiliation. I told you, I can’t be humiliated anymore!)

But it was too late to do anything about it. My husband told me the show was counting on me. It was too late to get anyone else to do it. So like the unexpected life, sometimes you’ve just got to push through it. My sister-in-law helped me do 1980s makeup (and blue eye shadow), I cringed as I put on every article of the provided costume—black boots, black bustier, pink netting skirt—and comforted myself that at least I wouldn’t know anyone in the audience.

Turns out, I was wrong about that too.

“If there are 12 clowns in a ring, you can jump in the middle and start reciting Shakespeare, but to the audience, you’ll just be the 13th clown.” (Adam Walinsky)

You Have To Give A Woman…

Date: January 19, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I am my own experiment. I am my own work of art.” (Madonna)

Apparently, I am too.

Lets just say there has been a lot of “experimenting” (as in a lot of new, unexpected experiences) since 2009. All seeming to take place during karaoke on a cruise ship lately, for some reason. Here’s how the worst one happened:

I remember the karaoke hostess asking if anyone could sing Madonna. I looked around, I was the youngest woman there (and the only blonde) and no one was standing up, so for some reason, I did. I sang my first solo. “Material Girl.” (It must be that it was Madonna. Madonna and Abba are my weakness, haha! A carryover from my 1980s upbringing, I guess.) After I sang I was handed a packet and a MP3 player to practice for a special performance—no wonder no one volunteered!

I worried to my husband, “I can’t sing Madonna to a bunch of people in the karaoke lounge.” He assured me I wouldn’t have to. I would be singing Madonna at the cruise’s final show, on the big stage with the red velvet curtains!

“I can’t do that!” I exclaimed.

“Too late,” he replied. He advised me to memorize the lyrics and practice the song. He told me that up on stage before thousands of people, I’d be nervous and forget everything; that’s why I needed to practice, so my mouth would have “memory” and be able to sing the right words when I didn’t have a clue what I was doing because I was terrified.

Reassuring, to say the least.

“At least you’ll get to sing with a live band, that’s really fun,” he encouraged. “Most people go their whole lives without that opportunity.”

Somehow, I think I would have survived my entire life without the experience, however, you know what they say: ”Opportunity knocks for every man, but you have to give a woman a ring.” (Mae West)

(Karaoke) Rock Star

Date: January 18, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Alas for those that never sing, But die with all their music in them!” (Oliver Wendell Holmes)

Thanks to my first cruise with my new husband, that’s not going to be a problem.

We ventured into the karaoke lounge another time and believe it or not, I attempted karaoke again. Still not sure what I was thinking…especially because I ended up on stage again. No solo, just “Summer Lovin’” from “Grease;” a duet with my husband! At some point in my childhood, I confess, I think I dreamed of being Sandy and having a Danny. Who says dreams can’t come true? Little did I realize it would take the unexpected life and a new husband to literally, make them reality. Lol.

However, the highlight of that evening came when a large group of Japanese tourists joined us in the lounge. And my husband surprised the crowd by singing “Feelings” in Japanese. (He majored in Japanese in college, and lived and worked in Japan for several years; he’s pretty fluent. Fluent enough, even, to sing!) You should have seen the women scream, clap, rise up from their chairs and dance around! One lovely woman even did a “fan dance” as he sang—I guess making sure he didn’t get too overheated from his performance or all of the swooning, I’m not sure which!

Karaoke rock star. Is there such a thing? If there is, I’m pretty sure I’m married to him.

“I won’t be a rock star. I will be a legend.” (Freddie Mercury)

The Power Of A T-Shirt

Date: December 15, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“It’s great to just disappear, grab a suitcase, switch the answering machine on and just go somewhere else.” (Dido Armstrong)

We made the most of our cruise, our time alone together and even our packing.

Prior to our departure, as we were packing for the trip I saw my husband add his BYU t-shirt to the pile of things he was planning to cruise with. I thought it was odd (in my prior cruise experience, we had packed evening wear, tuxedos, jewelry and business casual clothing to wear during the day; t-shirts had been for exercising—but I had a sneaking suspicion in this new life that wasn’t what they were going along for!) but I didn’t say anything. Finally, I couldn’t help myself.

“A BYU t-shirt, huh?” I commented. “Don’t we want to dress nicer than that?”

“I always make sure I take a BYU shirt on cruises,” my husband replied. “You’d be amazed at the people you meet and the conversations you have because you’re wearing one.”

I didn’t really believe that, but one thing remarriage to a man who is now 50 has taught me: he has his own mind, his own way of doing things and it has all worked very well for him for the almost five decades prior to meeting me so what can I say? Absolutely nothing. He is a tidy, helpful, very sufficient man who knows how to cook, clean and do laundry better than I do and he always looks nice…so I decided to trust him on that one. We didn’t discuss his packing choice any further.

A few days later, on the cruise, he put on his BYU t-shirt. I looked at him but was determined to not say anything—or request a shirt with a collar. He winked at me and acknowledged his wardrobe choice for the day by reminding me, “You never know who you’ll meet because you’re wearing a BYU shirt!” and we headed out to tour the city of Boston.

Believe it or not, before we got to the heart of the city of Boston, my oldest called me from college to share a Ponzi scheme-related experience he’d had with relatives of a victim (Yes, 2 1/2 years later we still confront those types of things several times each year) and I confess, as much as I try to rise above all that garbage, I hung up the phone feeling a little low.

I tried not to let it show, but I’m a terrible actress. My husband asked, “Are you ok?”

I stalwartly replied, “Absolutely.”

My husband added, “Are you sure? Because if I’d just received a call like that, I think I’d be a little bit upset. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” I replied. “I’m fine.”

So we continued on in search of The Freedom Trail, Paul Revere’s house, Harvard campus and various other destinations we had planned. However that day, they were filming a movie in Boston. Many streets, like most of the streets on our tourist map, were blocked off. So we wound our way around different streets, side streets and made all kinds of detours.

And then unexpectedly, I heard it.

“ANDREA MERRIMAN!”

I paused. Had I just heard my name?

And then I heard it again: “ANDREA MERRIMAN!”

And before I knew it, one of my favorite people in the world and one of my closest Colorado friends (my friend who’d been with me through my nightmare in every possible way—she even helped me write my divorce) was running toward me. Before I could even say anything, the first words out of her mouth were, “Thank goodness your husband is wearing a BYU shirt, or I’d NEVER have noticed you!”

What are the odds that one of your favorite people and closest friends from Colorado moves to NYC for one year after you have moved to Utah and you both end up in the city of Boston, on the same day, at the same time, winding your way through the same off-the-beaten-path streets due to the filming of a movie and you run into each other…thanks to a BYU t-shirt?

Another beauty of the unexpected life.

(And by the way, although I didn’t tell her anything of my crazy Ponzi morning, that chance encounter with my good friend was exactly what I needed to shake it off and have one of the best days of my cruise! The entire day, and everything I got to see, and getting to share it all with my husband turned out to equal one day of absolute perfection.)

All because of a BYU t-shirt.

The power of a BYU t-shirt.

“Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.” (Mark Twain)