Job Security - NYT Weddings and Celebrations

You can't make stuff like this up . . .

Rachel Steward and Peter Lord

On this week's episode of Intervention . . .

The elements for their romance began to form early in spring 2006 in the Manhattan apartment of Dr. Steward’s friend Dr. Myrandele Damian-Coleman.

Dr. Damian-Coleman said she “thought Rachel deserved a nice guy” but was meeting all the wrong ones in the wrong places — namely St. Luke’s-Roosevelt Hospital Center in Manhattan, where both are medical residents.

The problem was, both were doing a psychiatric rotation.

The two doctors and a male friendtalked about Dr. Steward’s bad choices. But when she went for the door, Dr. Damian-Coleman said she locked it and told Dr. Steward she wasn’t leaving until she joined an Internet dating service.

Dr. Steward, then 27, and for whom online dating carried the stench of desperation, remembered thinking, “Oh, my God, has it really come to this?”

First of all, I assume it is a typo in The New York Times the word "friendtalked." Or maybe it isn't. Seems to me, friendtalked is just a nicer way of saying bullied. She's been putting on a few too many pounds so I friendtalked her into joining Weight Watchers. I was only friendtalking Bill about his drinking when he accused me of calling him an alcoholic. Friendtalking - it's the "LOL" of conversation, most of which tends to be one-sided.

So back to Rachel's "bad choices," one of which was to become friends with Dr. Damian-Coleman. Never mind the hyphenated surname. Obviously, Dr. Damian-Coleman lacks in some scoial skills because she does not appear to have any freiends with whom to set up the hapless Rachel, so her only recourse is false imprisonment until the hostage meets the demands of joining Match.com. Yes, Rachel, it really has come to this.

Days later, Mr. Lord, a record producer and a founder of the Family Stand, a group that mixes pop, funk and R&B, also found himself motivated to meet people outside his usual circle. Mr. Lord, who has written or co-written songs including “Rush, Rush” and “The Promise of a New Day,” both performed by Paula Abdul, sent Dr. Steward a less-is-more greeting. It read: “A simple hello, and I liked your smile.”

Dr. Steward, an obstetrician and gynecologist, was at work when she clicked on Mr. Lord’s message and profile. She hesitated over his posted age (37) but was intrigued by the photo of him singing.

Rachel - perhaps brilliant in science, but lousy in math. Because, Rachel, chica - unless Petey there was a child prodigy, he's older than 37, given the song "Rush, Rush" was released in 1991. Almost twenty years ago. Think about that.

Okay, maybe her math is fine. Maybe growing up in rural Vermont she did not learn there was this thing called the Internet with an application called Google.

Eventually Dr. Steward and Mr. Lord, who friends say is prone to hum or sing melodies as they occur to him, whether riding in a car or playing tennis, agreed to get together for a drink.

Because that's when the voices start talking to him.

Dr. Steward is worldly, having traveled extensively and becoming fluent in Russian and Spanish, which contrasts with what she described as her “backwoods” upbringing. “We were constantly eating all of my pet cows, turkeys, goats, deer,” she said.

Rachel Steward - over achiever. And lonely gal. Despite the travels and worldliness, was dragged into the dating scene with an on-line dating intervention. But can do a helluva lot with road kill.

Their first date, a few days after their last e-mail exchange, began with Mr. Lord pulling up to Dr. Steward’s apartment in his black Mustang. As she approached the car, Mr. Lord thought, “She’s beautiful.” She slipped into the car beside Mr. Lord, whose face was obscured by a knitted cap, and was suddenly seized by a realization: “I didn’t know him at all.”

And quite possibly could be a psychotic killer. Yeah, go with the knit cap on a first date. Nothing says "most-likely-to-slip-you-a-roofie" than a knit cap obscuring a face.

She took a deep breath as they drove to a SoHo bar for mojitos and “a very deep first date,” which included a discussion of Tolstoy’s essay on what is art but “no peck on the cheek goodnight,” she said. “Nothing.”

You escaped with your life. Be grateful for that.

He recalled being drawn to her intelligence, and her lack of contact with his world was refreshing. “Lots of people who know pop culture are also caught up in its trendiness and superficiality,” he said.

Please remember his words - "trendiness and superficiality." Because old Petey is all about the honesty.

Within weeks she had invited herself along on a gig that the Family Stand had in Amsterdam. Despite their growing affinity, it became clear during that trip that they are “extremely different people,” Dr. Steward said. “I was going for runs in the morning, getting up at 6 a.m., and he was sleeping and preparing for the show that night,” she said.

Before heading overseas, she learned their differences went beyond style: he was not 10, but 20 years older than she. “It slipped out when he had told me his sister was the same age as my mother, and that his sister was seven years older than he was,” she said. “I said, ‘That makes you 47.’ and he said, ‘Oh, yeah, that’s really how old I am.’ ”

Screeeeech! Okay, stop right there and rewind tape - after several weeks of meeting this guy, you invite yourself along as a groupie for his band and go to Amsterdam. He's living the rockstar life, while Ms. Perky is up at 6:00 am, jogging through the cobble-stoned streets. And then you find out - oops - he "somewhat" lied about his age and he is old enough to be your father. Okay, show of hands - how many people would be booking a solo flight home? How many people think Rachel should be friendtalked into a new sort of intervention?

Dr. Steward, now 29, admitted, “If he hadn’t lied about his age I would never have agreed to go out with him.” Still, she said it took her a few weeks to become comfortable with the revelation. “If I am going to build a family with this man and spend the rest of my life with him, I want him to be there,” Dr. Steward said.

Just a few weeks - no longer than to invite herself along to Amsterdam. "See, it's a good thing he lied - or else I wouldn't have said yes to a date! Okay, so if I have a baby when I'm thirty, he'll be fifty, and . . ."

After the ceremony, Dr. Steward’s sister, Aron, gave a toast in which she encouraged her new brother-in-law to “Dance with her. Always be a little bit better than her on your feet. Competition keeps her around and excited.”

Later that evening, as the yacht glided around Manhattan, the bridegroom, who had described himself as “old, fat and bald,” sought to do just that as he led his new wife around the dance floor with his energetic Salsa moves.

I wish I could have seen the video. What a Viagra moment it was . . .