I just read a wedding announcement in today’s New York Times online, though my original intent was to read a Frank Rich column that I’ll write about later. Once I finished the aforementioned Rich column, I saw in the Times’ Inside NYTimes.com feature a photo of an older gentleman kissing a woman whom I thought was several decades his junior. You know, a trophy wife arrangement. But the dynamic was far, far different from what I imagined. In fact, this woman is psychotic, and he’s a reluctant tag-along. Here is how they set their wedding date:

She began urging him to drop on one knee and formally propose. He balked, insisting that he was too old, his knees too creaky.

She offered to bring him kneepads from the garden. When he didn’t budge, she sent out a “save the date” e-mail message anyway.

In place of a formal proposal, he cut her a little slack. “I am happy to get married,” he told her. “I’ll clear my calendar and I’ll show up.”

That is exactly how I always imagined getting married. It’s just so romantic, you know? I wonder if he was cc’ed on the email invitation or if it just appeared on his calendar one day.