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Wedding-y Wit and Wisdom: How to Propose to a Princess (Part II)

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In my last post, I shared that it was time to propose to the woman I love, that she is a princess, and that I wanted to propose in some epic (or at least memorable way). Where did we leave off? Oh, yea. I was explaining that I didn't have a it all worked out yet, but since She showed up unexpectedly and I found myself with the ring in my pocket, I needed a plan... And it had to be hard -- show I made effort.

At this point, I made the best choice of the process -- I involved her best friend and two of mine. Getting her best friend into the mix was great because she helped me plan, gave guidance and some reassurance (thanks, man!) Plus, I knew my love would want her and her wife to be part of the proposal. Who doesn't want to say yes, and then turn around and talk about it with her bestie?

Involving two of my best boys (they are full grown men, of course, and husbands) meant lots of brain power, support and emotional strength. A plan quickly evolved. I love those boys! That weekend, the kids and I were going to the desert to celebrate the boys' 20th anniversary. We decided I would propose over the weekend -- on the Palm Springs Aerial Tram surrounded by the rest of the anniversary party guests. So I had the ring, a location, an audience, support and her best friend lined up to be there. I needed music, deception and some luck.

Here is how it shook down.

Her bestie and her wife were up on top of the mountain, and going to join us for lunch afterwards. I got a text letting me know they were set. The musician that I hired spotted me in the tram line. I guess I stand out. Anyway, I sent one of my besties to communicate with her. All 20 or so of us got onto the tram, including the musician (who was awesome). She got her music stand set up and started to strum her guitar. I was going to drop to one knee after the first song so that we would be fully up in the air (kind of like on a cloud). Problem was, the tram has an obnoxious track running explaining the flora and fauna being seen. Or, in my case, not seen. Man, I was nervous! I had to pretend that I was afraid of heights so that she would not be too suspicious. Like, "Butch, what on earth is wrong with you? Why are you sweating?" Get the picture? The kids were in on it and adorable, reminding me that it would "all be OK, Mom." Pat, pat.

So, the musician starts playing and my heart starts thumping, but then she stops. She starts one more time, and then stops again. I look around and catch my bestie's eye. What the hell? The park ranger won't let her play. DAMNIT! Ginning up a new plan while mid-air, nervous and trying not to give the whole thing away was a real challenge. Winks and nods later we were going to do it on the platform at the top. We pull into the station and I hold the kids and her on the tram with some lame excuse like, "It's crowded, let's hold tight a moment." I wait as long as I can possibly wait without being stupid, and then we get off. I can hear the music right away and I know that this is it. I see the musician, and so I take her hand, pulling her too quickly to the right spot.

I drop down on one knee and give her most of the speech that I had prepared and tried to memorize. It was all about how she makes me fly, has thrown my world askew, makes my head spin, like I am floating when she is around, no solid ground under my feet. It was perfect for the dangling tram! Not as perfect for the station, but nothing to be done about that. She makes me believe in happily-ever-afters, and I wanted her to be mine.

She said yes, tears in both our eyes and pulled me up off my knee. There was kissing, hugging, clapping and then dancing as the musician played our special song. The tram people had grabbed her bestie and her wife, and brought them to the platform so they were there to celebrate after the magical yes was uttered. The park ranger allowed us all to stay on the platform (our 20 people plus observers) for that first dance, and then they moved us to a deck outside. Our private concert continued, and then the party guests went on to explore the mountain and we went in to eat lunch. I had arranged to have roses delivered to the table and, of course, champagne. She was totally overwhelmed.

I consider it an absolute success. I am pretty sure she would tell you that she felt like a princess, and her childhood expectations were surpassed. Oh, and she loved the ring. So, even though there I didn't float in on a cloud, and there was no unicorn to ride off on, I proposed in a way that was special and hard. I hope she likes sharing the story. I certainly do.

It's butch to make the love of your life feel like a princess, even if you don't have a cloud. Or a unicorn. Be Butch.