Do You Have An Air Compressor?

I'd never found an air compressor romantic...I dare say most of the population hasn't. But not too long ago in a land very near to here the words "air compressor" found themselves in Cupid's vocabulary. This week folks all over the country are making plans, boycotting, and/or forgetting the annual celebration of lovers and sweethearts. It couldn't be a more perfect time to tell the sappy and hilarious tale of how I met and fell in love with my husband. And for anyone still up in the air on their plans for Thursday, I'll share a few quirky (and budget-friendly) ideas on how we handle V-Day.




On December 20th, 2007, I moved to Kentucky as a world-traveled suburbanite with a streak of hot pink in my bangs, a full-face of glam cosmetics, and my eye set on a simpler life and an adventurous new beginning. A mere two weeks later on Saturday, January 5th, I was alone in my mother's newly-purchased Amish farmhouse sorting through boxes and attempting (however futilely) to organize 30+ years' worth of family possessions. It was a fluke that I was even by myself because up to that point since arriving in Kentucky my family had done everything as a single multi-faced unit: take the mail to the post office, get groceries at the local store, go meet the neighbors, find downtown, etc. That morning the others were headed off to yet another otherwise mundane destination that seemed rather exciting and momentous on this new planet we now called home. As she headed out the door my mom's parting words to me (her twenty-four-year-old grown daughter) were, "Don't open the door to strangers and don't let anyone in the house." How could she have known!?!

In the recent past before this life-changing January morning Weldon had put in notice with his full-time job in order to move back to his family's land and begin a sustainable farming venture. That cold morning he and his father were jawing with a neighbor about pasture available to lease for his soon-coming herd of all grass beef. They decided to pay a visit to the "new folks from somewhere up north" in order to pitch a lease on the back forty acres that were just six miles from their own. Knock, knock. I answered. (Sorry mom!) The two figures in front of me were bundled like abominable snowmen and started rattling about organic agriculture and all-grass beef. These were familiar buzz words and I was easily suckered into the chat. I told them they'd have to speak with my mother, the owner, who wasn't in at the moment. (Sorry mom!) As I suggested taking their names and number down the elder gentleman asked if they shouldn't just step inside the house because of the cold gusts coming in the door. I couldn't say, "NO. My mom told me not to let any strangers in the house this morning." So they did. (Sorry mom!) News headlines flashed before me as I cautiously stepped back toward the nearest pen and paper my fingertips could stretch to reach. I kept one eye on them the whole time just in case...they were strangers after all.  I jotted the information, noting that the younger one had "noticed" me, but didn't think another thing of it as they cordially said goodbyes and headed on their way. In hindsight I realize I was the stranger in a land of neighborly visits. "Wait til you see what moved in at Priceville!" Weldon purportedly went home and relayed to his mother about the young, flashy out-of-towner that he had been startled to lay eyes on.

After a few more interchanges between the two of us (and a signed pasture lease between him and my mom), Weldon asked me out officially to pizza and a cave tour at Mammoth Cave National Park.  I'd been attracted by our common interests and his well-spoken, easy-going personality. I excitedly agreed to the outing. Our big first date was February 10th (five years ago, yesterday). It was such a quiet day at the Park that we had the tour guide to ourselves. Everything was going swimmingly until we descended the concrete staircase into the main entrance of the cave. I found myself walking through an iron gate into the cave with my date who I barely knew and a middle-aged male tour guide (who could've been my date's accomplice for all I knew) when the guide proceeded to lock the gate behind us. The guide said it was procedure so that no one else could get in unattended. "Oh sure! -- Or no one can get out!" I thought. News headlines once again flashed before me. As we meandered the rocky cave rooms I clutched my car keys in one coat pocket and the only other quasi-weapon I had on me, a ball-point pen, in my other pocket. I was unwilling to become a poster child for women's self-defense class! Thankfully, I did relax enough to take in the tour and really enjoy the history, trivia, and grandeur of this natural wonder in my new backyard. Weldon was a perfect gentleman and the guide turned out to be just a friendly, knowledgeable tour guide. Whew!

When we surfaced from underground we continued our enthralling conversation until our butts were sore from sitting in the visitor's center seats. The day was still young so we decided to head to his parents' home where his mother would likely have dessert to share with us. Being an independent, northern woman I had driven myself to pizza and the Park. As we sauntered through the parking lot toward our respective vehicles Weldon suddenly interjected, "Your tire looks low. Do you have an air compressor?" He could have been speaking Greek. I slowly translated in my mind and tried to come up with an appropriate response. "Do I look like I'd have an air compressor?" was all I could muster, but I was thinking, "Air compressor? Like at the gas station? People actually own those? Why? And where?" What a city girl! While at his parents' he took my car up to the barn where he aired up my leaky tire with his very own air compressor. And that's when we fell in love. Relatively speaking. It took us two more years to finalize it, but we married in the spring of 2010.

Perhaps not surprisingly Weldon and I are relatively unconventional and we celebrate each other and our love in off-the-beaten-path ways that fit our interests, relationship, and budget. We figure -- why do the same old things on the same day as everyone else if we can do something original when no one else is clamoring around us? If we're venturing out in public for Valentine's we rarely do so on the "big day"; and as long as it's memorable, we don't mind staying in either. The point is to take occasion to celebrate the myriad reasons that you are head-over-heels for your mate! We've spent a Valentine's Day eating like kings at an empty Panera Bread and capping off the night laughing hysterically while reading horribly sappy cards to one another at Barnes & Noble. One year we were the oldest attendants (that didn't have children in tow) at Dinosaur World where we took Godzilla-like photos with the life-size dino replicas -- they had a buy-one, get-one Sweetheart deal we couldn't pass up! Afterward we baked cupcakes and watched Julie & Julia. Another year we bought as much chocolate as we could stand at the local salvage store ($0.50 a box adds up fast!) and went home to choco-feast and watch a romantic mini-series in our p.j.s all day. This year I think we're going to Western Kentucky University's free planetarium show after eating at a reasonable spot we've simply had a hankering for.

We all know there's a whole lot more reality to a healthy, love-filled relationship than first meetings, googly eyes, and "I Dos".  If we're honest we also know that Valentine's Day shouldn't be the only time of year we celebrate each other; nor should it necessitate that our hard-earned dollars pad the pockets of card-makers, international flower farms, and over-priced chocolatiers. My personal philosophy is that February is an annual earmark for Weldon to affirm he's loved, understood, heard, respected, and exactly the man I wanted to marry...and vice versa. If that sentiment happens to spill over into the rest of the year, which it often does, then I'm good to go. You don't even have to be a mushy, gushy type to have a truly happy valentine. Heck, if air compressors can work their magic on two star-crossed lovers then I'd say the sky is the limit!