I remember attending the 50th Wedding Anniversary event for the people we called Auntie and Uncle (they raised my mother). I was amazed that two people could be together that long.

To know someone for that amount of time is rare in itself, but to live and love with someone that long defies the imagination.

I hoped that one day my bride and I would celebrate our 50th Anniversary, at least it was a goal.

Saturday is our 50th Anniversary, but we decided not to have a party, but instead to have a romantic dinner as a couple.

Because after all, we've been through better, worse, richer, poorer, had sickness and health, and loved and cherished. Might as well splurge since this anniversary doesn't happen very often.

Of all current U.S. marriages, only 7 percent have reached the 50-year mark, according to the National Center for Family and Marriage Research at Bowling Green State University.

Our 50^th Wedding Anniversary is an incredible accomplishment in many ways. 

To have someone put up with me for that length of time is amazing in itself, for sure. But to look back on what we’ve been through as a couple and a family, and to still be moving towards the future is even more impressive to me.

People wonder how we did it, and we do too. Somehow, we took things a day at a time, a challenge at a time, an obstacle at a time, and a hug at a time.

As I was drafting the concept for this Weblog, my working title was ‘The Lucky Bastard’ referring to me, because I am. 

I decided on “Fly Fly Betty and Fast Eddie” for reasons I outline below. That was what we had on the matchbooks passed out at the wedding. The title change doesn’t make me any less of a lucky bastard. Here’s why.

When my future wife and I met, we were both dating someone else who didn’t appreciate us as much as we might have hoped. My fraternal Big Brother, Bill, pictured here with me last summer, was a manager at the University Store at Umass and had an employee he thought would be a good match for me, and I a good match for her. He came up with an excuse for us to connect and the process was started.

After a kiss-free first date that you can read about here, we continued to see each other. Within two weeks I told people, maybe even her, that I was going to marry her. That’s how smitten (first time used in a sentence) I was with her. 

She was beautiful, funny, and smart and there was something about her that fascinated me. I think it was the kind of person she is. Exceptionally thoughtful maybe? I would find out about a year later what made her so special. The biggest amazement I had was that she was interested in me. I kept waiting for her to change her mind while we were dating.

Within a week of that first date 52 years ago, another one of my fraternity brothers who was a horse betting junkie, invited a bunch of us to go with him to Hinsdale Raceway in New Hampshire, less than an hour from school, to watch and bet on harness races. 

Wouldn’t you know it, but in one of the early races there was a horse named “Fly Fly Betty.” Since the girl of my dreams was named Betty, I had to bet ten bucks on the race. The horse didn’t win, but I did the next day when I showed my future bride the betting slip with the horse’s name on it.

The next time she showed up at the fraternity, the guys who were at that race called her Fly Fly Betty. Once the entire fraternity heard about it, that became her nickname. In short order it was shortened to simply “Fly Fly” and eventually “Fly.”

My nickname was Fast Eddie, only because it was a mandatory nickname for guys named Eddie, and come to think of it, I could run pretty fast as a soccer player in those days.

At the time, I had a fairly robust mustache, which I am sharing in this story because the reason I shaved it is an interesting memory of the first Halloween we were together. 

The year prior, Betty had attended a Halloween costume party as a Playboy Bunny, and still had the costume. With some alterations, we decided it would be cool for me to go to this year’s party at my fraternity, Phi Sigma Kappa, as a bunny. 

So I shaved my stache, fluffed up my hair and was almost unrecognizable to my brothers, particularly the one who thought about putting the moves on me as I was standing at the bar. Remember, as a soccer player I’ve always had nice legs, and from behind, with my legs, a bunny tail and afroed black hair…never mind.

A few months after we met, my girlfriend moved back home and away from Amherst. I moved out of the fraternity and went into business with some friends which turned out to be a disaster. The four of us lived in a hotel room and really, really scraped by. 

My future wife and I wrote letters to each other, occasionally talked on the phone, and from time to time she visited me in Amherst. 

To give you an indication of the kind of person she is, after she left one time to go home, she went across the street to the 'Stop and Shop' and returned with a bag of groceries for us and left it in front of the door. That's the girl I was in love with and an example of her character.

We got married in that quaint little church in the middle of a small New England town with all the relatives and about 100 friends from school, including most of the fraternity.

The reception was at the now long-closed Thunderbird in Fitchburg, a hotel and a restaurant. 

My dad and fraternity brothers rented a room for the weekend to hold the beer they planned to consume near the pool before and after the big event.

I remember the surrealness of being in the middle of the head table, at an event about me and my bride. It took a while to sink in that we were the center of attention. 

After we changed and said goodbye from the reception, we went back to her parent's house, but decided that we were missing out on a pretty good after-party, so we went back and enjoyed our friends and families for a little while longer.

As of this writing, we’ve been married 18,247 days, it will be 18,250 on July 27^th. In that time, we’ve moved 16 times, including 13 times in the first twelve years we were married and that is also a statement about either her devotion or… let’s leave it as her devotion.

In the 18,247 days so far, we've gone from Massachusetts to Oxnard, San Francisco, and Marina del Rey in California, then to Memphis, Tennessee then on to Cincinnati, Ohio, and back to Massachusetts. Along the way, our son was born in California and we experienced first-hand the joys and challenges of parenting.

We’ve survived a lot of challenges, had a lot of fun, had hundreds or maybe thousands of date nights. We’ve survived earthquakes, hurricanes, the deaths of parents and other loved ones, unemployment, tax issues, a lawsuit or two, lots of hospital days, and a few big events.

When you’ve been married for 50 years, you make lots of mistakes, have plenty of tears, lose sleep over things, and get angry now and then, but when you keep going, when you don’t give up on each other, when you are still attracted to each other, you’re lucky, and you know it.

Over the years, we've had several items in our home with the phrase: “Grow old along with Me, the best is yet to be.” 

I still feel that way about the girl of my dreams, and she still answers to the name Fly Fly Betty.

Although, based on my running speed, no one calls me Fast Eddie anymore, but most still think I am a lucky bastard, and I am.