Carolynn (Fig. 8.1) (“Dear”)
Of all the people in the world, Carolynn is of course the most important one to me. And considering that since being with her, I have changed from a basically unhappy person to a happy one, I thought it obvious to devote a chapter to her.
But this is where I come a cropper. After all, the raison d’être for this memoir are my “remarkable” memories, but I’m not sure my relationship with Carolynn is really all that remarkable. On one hand there are a tremendous number of amusing situations that we’ve shared, but I presume these stories are not anything different than those that everyone else also experiences with their significant others. I could go on at length at how wonderful she is, but anything further along those lines soon gets repetitious, and even maudlin. Additionally, she is a very private person, so I am quite constrained as to just how much to include here. So this chapter, which I still deem essential, will be pretty short.
Perhaps the only remarkable quality of our relationship has been how seamless it has been. There is an axiom that you have to work at a relationship in order for it to be a successful one. Yet, I don’t think either Carolynn or I have had to work very hard at all. She has undoubtedly made me a better person by cluing me in to not be so judgmental, and thanks to her I’ve now been introduced to the joys of pet ownership. But I am happy to report that after fifty+ years of knowing each other, we’ve never fought or had a serious argument over anything. Sure, there have been occasional minor disagreements on some issues (how could two human beings live together for forty years and not have some?), but it has been a thing of beauty to see, that with a very few minor adjustments, how well we complement the other.
Our interests tend to mesh together, but we still maintain our individuality. For example, while both of us are interested in nature and biology, I am intrigued by those critters with multiples of three legs (insects), while Carolynn is interested in those with multiples of four (horses, rabbits, spiders). Likewise, Carolynn enjoys cooking, while I enjoy eating – I tell you, it is a match made in heaven – she hits ‘em high, while I hit ‘em low.
I had been employed at the Essig Museum for a couple of years before Carolynn met my coworkers at a social gathering. Afterwards, Cheryl Barr came up to me and remarked “She’s so BEAUTIFUL”, which I took to mean that she was amazed I could have landed anyone that attractive. And the thing is, I agreed with her – after striking out time after time with my crushes, I too was amazed that anyone as wonderful1 as Carolynn would be interested in me.
As noted in Chapters 4 and 5, we met through Scottish Country Dancing during our undergraduate years at Berkeley. The first thing we discovered we had in common was a love for Sherlock Holmes stories. Once she invited me over to dinner at her home, presided over by her father Dr. Harold Harvey, who preferred to go by the nickname he garnered in his collegiate days, “Spike” (Fig. 8.2), and her brother John (Fig. 8.3). Spike was also an avid Holmesian (in fact he was a member of The Baker Street Irregulars2), and I remember being quizzed by him that evening on several points to satisfy himself as to my knowledge of the Canon. Spike was one of the most memorable people I ever met. He had a slight frame and was fairly soft-spoken – presumably that was the catalyst for a fraternity brother from his college days to declare that his name was now Spike, because he “chewed nails and spit rust” (his build also naturally qualified him for the position of coxswain on the University rowing team). Spike realized that maintaining a quiet demeanor raised the respect others paid him. I certainly witnessed that, him sitting in his favorite recliner, smiling and smoking a pipe and, after listening to the conversational flow, dropping in the occasional intelligent remark. And he was intelligent – getting a BA from Harvard and then attending Duke medical school, followed by a Rockefeller Foundation Research Fellowship at Massachusetts General, and a fellow in neuropsychiatry at Harvard Medical School. With the outbreak of WWII, he joined the army, and served as Surgeon for the 51st Fighter Squadron (part of the famed Flying Tigers) in China, receiving the bronze star (Fig. 8.4 is his copy of “Guide to Shanghai”, with some very useful entries, including “Where to Dine, Dance and Drink” and “Prophylactic Stations”). Spike also had a knack for winning at blackjack – his preferred casino in Tahoe was (naturally) Harvey’s, although I don’t think his last name qualified him for any room discounts. He disclaimed that his winnings were due to skill but instead just plain luck, but he was a calm player and paid attention to the cards, and so was able to make the most of it when the cards came his way.
An additional benefit of marrying into a medical family is that I receive a lot of sound medical advice and health care for free. For example, should I develop sesamoiditis in my fetlock, Carolynn will know just what it takes to treat it (on the other hand, I do have to be incredibly careful not to break a leg).
And although money had never been an issue while pursuing any of my romantic interests, I have to say that Carolynn’s job and family situation afforded me a professional career I would not have been able to achieve otherwise. When we married, I was a USPS letter carrier in Oakland, pulling down a nice salary, but with no prospects of doing anything other than that. In our first year together, we moved up to Pullman, where, with Carolynn’s salary and both our savings (coupled with the lower cost of living in the Palouse), we did not feel it necessary for me to have a job, leaving me free to get back into Entomology. And again, a year later when Carolynn got another job in Pittsburg (CA, not PA), our expenses were relatively low, while Carolynn’s salary increased (she was always the top breadwinner in our family). Thus I was free to continue my entomological studies, now at UC Berkeley. And after another year, Carolynn moved to a new position in Oakland, where we ended up living with her Dad in their family home, rent free; leaving me free to pursue a PhD at Berkeley, and return full time to the field of Entomology. And after graduation, I was able to apply for those positions that interested me, even though they were not highly renumerative3. Thus a successful reentrance into my desired profession was only due to her.
I have never been much of a cook4 (it amazes me that I somehow survived for the 12 years from 1973 to 1985 when I was solely responsible for preparing my dinner), so I was quite impressed when I learned some of the tricks taught me by the Harvey household (shortcut for preparing iceberg lettuce, pre-preparing salad parts, using A1 sauce in hamburgers, and an exquisite five-spice chicken recipe). But while Carolynn has always been the cook in the family, I at least tried to do my bit, although immediately after we married, I had to overcome a steep learning curve in figuring out the technology involved (Fig. 8.5). However, although Carolynn presents as a very demure persona, she is a two-fisted drinker (Fig. 8.6). She also has an interesting method of ironing bedsheets (Fig. 8.7).
I was still training to be a hang glider pilot when Carolynn and I were dating. One day she and her two dogs (Maya and Jason, see Fig. 8.3) accompanied me to Fort Funston when I was launching from a low cliff just south of the main launch. During one of my launches, Maya watched my preliminary moves (carrying the glider to the end of the cliff) with no discernable reaction. But then I ran a few steps, and as I headed into the updraft, left the solid earth behind me. Carolynn saw her stare at me as I floated away, and then she shook her head, as she tried unsuccessfully to process what just happened.
And speaking of pets (Fig. 8.8 shows our present stock), as a veterinarian, Carolynn of course has always maintained a menagerie of them. When we married, she had an all black rabbit named Ninja, who turned out to be something of an artist – producing what looked to be a self-portrait (Fig. 8.9). Another pet was Stretch (AKA “Starch”, due to his prediliction for grabbing my saltine crackers) a gray-cheeked parakeet (Fig. 8.10). Once when sitting on Carolynn’s hand and amusing himself by poking and prodding her wedding ring, Carolynn suddenly heard a “Dink” got extremely concerned: “What do you mean, ‘dink’? What did you do?” Turns out Stretch had dislodged the stone in the ring and Carolynn heard it hit the floor. Luckily she was able to retrieve it right away (and we had it reset), but she was much more circumspect regarding his habits after that.
At least she did recover the stone. However, some time later she somehow lost the ring entirely – it was just GONE (we grilled Stretch extensively, but we were never able to get anything out of him). So I bought her another one, but was racking my brain on the best way to present it to her. I ended up by deciding to “reenact” my marriage proposal (although it was historically inaccurate since this time I didn’t have the flu nor did I chose a nice restaurant for the setting). Instead, I dressed up in a suit and tie, over which it I donned my lab coat with the W.B.C.S. nametag (see Appendix I), and went to the vet hospital where she was working (and tried to blend in doing minor paperwork chores). During a lull in her activities, and in front of a number of her coworkers, I removed the lab coat to reveal (TA DA!) that the office helper was instead a well-dressed gent, and then presented her the replacement ring (Fig. 8.11). She (and her co-workers) seemed to appreciate that.
1 Also intelligent, highly personable, giving, fantastic sense of humor, multitude of interests in common. Oh, and sensitive and creative … although neither of us is particularly enamored of long walks on the beach.
2 Named after a group of “street Arabs” referred to in three of the Holmes stories, the BSI was founded in 1934 as the first Sherlockian literary society in the world.
3 However, this career led me to the treasurership of the PCES, which, with just a little creative bookkeeping, helped me to weather the financial setback in ought seven, when the market for scarab elytra futures (in which I was heavily invested, thanks to the slick sales talk that Roberta Brett snowed me with5) went south.
4 Well, except for making Mike Cohen’s Reality cookies©.
5 Which is why you should never trust a Coleopterist.