Biking the Battlefields
Sixteen years ago I was introduced to a boy who asked me to attend the fireworks with him on the Fourth of July. We went to the beach on that cold Fourth, got separated just in time for the fireworks, and spent the next two hours walking up and down the beach waiting for the traffic to disappear so that he could take me home. We listened to the Eagles, laughed, he frightened me a little with his ridiculous knowledge of fireworks, and we dated the rest of the summer until we both headed off for college. It took a year for me to fall in love with him despite my best intentions not to, and two more years before I decided that he was definitely the guy I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, but after eleven and half years of marriage I can see no more fitting date for our first date anniversary than the Fourth of July. You see, my husband is a lot of things, and there are many things about him that lurk beneath the surface. Only those who really know him know how freaky smart he is,...