No. 236 – Sentimental Lady

Performer: Bob Welch

Songwriter: Bob Welch

Original Release: single, French Kiss

Year: 1977

Definitive Version: None.

To steal a line from my Best Man’s speech at Scott’s wedding: The great modern American poet … Sammy Hagar … once asked the question, how do I know when it’s love? When it came to me and Laurie, I arrived at the answer at Christmas 2004.

That year, the big celebration was scheduled for Cincinnati. Scott, Shani and Leah had moved into their big, new house out by Kings Island, and Leah was 1-1/2, just old enough to start being intrigued by the Christmas thing if not yet fully into it.

Jin and Paul were in from California, and the plan was everyone from Dad’s house would spend the 23rd In Cincy. I’d stay the night while Dad, Laura, Matt and Casey headed home. Then the next day, Scott and I would drive up to Columbus and get Mom to spend Christmas Day down there.

I drove down earlier than everyone else on the 23rd. Because I had more room, I took a lot of the dinner ingredients as well as Maile, who had spent every night in my room since I’d been home from Torch Lake a week or so earlier.

It began to rain shortly after I reached the Outerbelt, and within minutes everyone was on the brakes, because the rain froze on contact. I wrestled the car under control and got in line as traffic slowed to, well, not a crawl, but 25 mph, 30 tops. What typically is about an hour-and-a-half drive turned into a near three-plus-hour ordeal.

If there was any good news about the commute, it was that the freezing rain turned to snow as I got close to Scott’s exit. The bad news was it had been snowing all day, and Scott and Shani’s subdivision hadn’t been plowed, so the powder was thick and slick.

Everyone, it seemed, was outside shoveling their driveway, which was a good thing, because when I came around a turn, I slid in the snow to avoid a car and got stuck in a snowdrift … only two blocks from Scott and Shani’s house. A bunch of people came over and dug me out, and I promptly got stuck again in another drift that was deeper than it looked. So, they came over and dug me out a second time. Good grief!

I finally drove the final two blocks without any further incident and called Dad and Laura to alert them to the conditions. They already were aware of them. They left a couple hours after I did, so it would be at least that long before we saw them.

It was great to see Paul and Jin—the first time any of us had since their September wedding. Because of that, they brought along all the wedding photos in the world. They had duplicates of some for everyone as well as a master photo album.

I was sitting in Granddad’s rocking chair, which had been bequeathed to me and I in turn passed along to Scott when I moved to Cleveland, leafing through the photo album when I came upon a picture of Laurie. Paul and Jin had sent me a picture of the two of us talking at the reception (with the caption, “Busted,” on the back), but I’d never seen this picture.

It was taken during the wedding. Laurie had done a reading of Khalil Gibran’s The Prophet, and the picture was taken from the front. Laurie wore a long, ivy-green dress with a white lace shawl, and my heart just swelled when I saw the picture.

I thought of the great times we’d had together during my two visits to Chicago that fall. Laurie was such a sweet, gentle soul who made me feel instantly welcome when we were together. We just seemed to have this instant connection. So, I knew it right then, Sammy, because how could I help but be in love with this sentimental lady?

I couldn’t stop looking at her picture that day. It almost got to the point where I’d sneak open the photo album surreptitiously, like I might a Playboy when I was a kid, so as to not draw any more attention about at what I was staring.

The next day shone bright and beautiful, like Laurie’s picture. The storm was long gone, and the sky was blue—not a cloud anywhere. Every tree on the side of I-71—and I mean every single tree—was coated in ice as though it was dipped in liquid silver. I’d never seen the like. It truly was a winter wonderland.

The storm also had a practical effect as clear as the day itself: The freeway froze over but melted just enough to make it feel as though it was riddled with potholes. The drive was bumpy and slippery, and it took me and Scott well more than two hours to get to Columbus to pick up Mom.

On that drive, I confessed my heart to Scott. “I think I’m in love with Laurie.” “Really?” “Yes. I think so.” “Well, good for you.” This was a big announcement, one because Jin, Scott and I NEVER had been with someone at the same time. It first was just me, then me and Jin, Jin and Scott, me and Scott, Jin and Scott; it never was all of us.

But it was big also because telling Scott made it real. A week later I was heading back to Chicago for New Year’s Eve, and I decided I would tell Laurie what I told Scott and let the chips fall where they may. Better to make an error of commission than omission, and what better way to end 2004—what had been a glorious year—than by telling Laurie that I loved her?