The Lovernator

Last week, me and my fellow Californians elected Jerry Brown to be the next governor. Jerry was hardly an enthusiastic choice. He was more the proverbial lesser of two evils. I'm no fan of his special ties to big labor unions who stand in the way of real reform.

But, I'm an even lesser fan of Meg Whitman and other greedy corporate billionaires who take from the till and line their pockets while telling employees there's no money for raises or promotions or anything else that might improve morale.

There's something else at work here. The crazy world of 6 degrees of separation. You see, it turns out the entire trajectory of my life was changed by Jerry Brown, more specifically Jerry Brown's family.

A little more than twenty years ago, some colleagues at an ad agency wanted to set me up on a blind date with a friend of theirs. Trying to move past since the recent passing of my father I agreed.

But a week before that blind date was to happen, a buddy of mine said he knew about a big bash in the Hollywood Hills. It was at some mansion. The party was being thrown by Jerry Brown's nephew while his parents were out of town.

I went. And by sheer coincidence, so did the woman who was to be my blind date the following week. So instead of strained small talk over spaghetti bolognese, we met, with about 300 other people, at a wild summer soiree in a home that belonged to the sister of our future governor.

Today I share a bed, a family and a life with that woman. And we both recall the night so vividly. Like the cliche, it was love at first sight.

21 years later, we still love each other. But now that love has its own rhythm and cadence. And often sounds like this, "Do you have to put the toilet paper roll on upside down?" Or, "I don't like the way you breathe, do you have to breathe like that?"