My brother told me: “Do something special for the proposal. Unfortunately, you don't get a second chance, and it's a story you'll tell a lot. Make it a good one. Funny, romantic, embarrassing, whatever. Just make it special.”
I took my brother’s advice on this to heart. I am not, by nature, someone who is comfortable with or adept at planning elaborate events. I also once read a satirical article about marriage written from the perspective of a cynical woman. It included the following advice meant to dissuade the man from trying a memorable proposal:
When you propose, don't try to do anything cute like putting the ring in my wine glass or having a little kid bring it to me at a picnic. It's all been done before, and you are not a very creative person. It would probably just come off as cheesy and forced. Just get down on a knee and get it over with. New Year's Eve works fine for me.
That pretty much could have been describing me. However, while I’m sure many folks take their cues on life from humor web sites – and really, why shouldn’t they? – it seemed like Melanie might appreciate the effort.
I briefly considered trying to recruit Vannah, Melanie’s niece, into the proposal. Melanie absolutely adores Vannah. My idea was to tell Vannah to give the ring to Melanie, and have her ask Melanie to marry Rob. In theory, it seemed that Vannah, who has been the source of so much joy in Melanie’s life, would be the perfect vehicle for what I hoped would be a wonderful moment. Upon further consideration, however, I decided that giving a two-year old a choking hazard that can also cut glass was a tad impractical.
I also considered bring Melanie to Athens to re-create our first date. (Luckily, it wasn’t until our second date that I tried to push her chair across the street too fast and nearly knocked her out of her chair when I hit a bump.) I wasn’t quite sure how well that would work, though. The first place we went on our first date was an Italian chain restaurant that had since closed down under tragic circumstances. The closest approximation would probably have been Olive Garden. While I’m sure a proposal story that starts out with, “So, we went to dinner at Olive Garden” would put be a great way to get mentioned in the next edition of Stuff White People Like, that wasn’t what I was shooting for.
Also, the last place we went on our first date was her dorm room at UGA. (I can’t recall specifically, but I believe we went there to read the Bible and play Scrabble, or something to that effect.) If we went there, we might interrupt college kids taking tequila shots or sacrificing goats (which is what I assume most UGA college students do when they aren’t studying cow-tipping), and that could quickly become awkward. So, back to the drawing board.
I briefly considered just taking her out to dinner and asking her. And getting her a card that said, “Sorry I can’t think of anything better, but will you still marry me? I’ve got a good job!”
Then, at some point, I was listening to Johnny Cash, as I am wont to do. I recalled the ending of Walk the Line, where Johnny proposes to June while they’re singing “Jackson.” (Apparently, this happened in real life.) In the context of the story, it seemed like kind of a jerk move, because they’d been fighting up to that point, and he was effectively putting her in a position where the entire crowd was pressuring her to say yes. So, obviously, I decided that was the way to go. (Ah, movies and television – when have they ever steered someone in the wrong direction?)
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