Home Outside Asylum

Take a walk, smell the roses. Any topic is fine, save people bashing.

I was married for the first time at sundown on the summer solstice of 1970

The ceremony took place on an Islamic prayer rug under a weeping willow on the front lawn of my parents' farm home. The bride wore a white lace mini-dress and white vinyl knee-high boots. I wore purple lace bell-bottoms, a purple puffy-sleeved shirt, a leather vest and cowboy boots. We wore garlands of flowers (of course). The procession from the house out to the wedding site was led by a flute player and his tambourine-shaking girlfriend, both of whom were stoned on smack. The "minister" was a computer science professor with an interest in Sufi who happened to have a mail-order ministership from the Church of Universal Life. The ceremony included elements from Christian, Buddhist, Hindu, Islamic and scientific sources, including a de-rigeur reading from Khalil Gibran. The wedding gifts included an ounce of blond Leb. The bride never did shake her life-long commitment to free love, much to my eternal gratitude.


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