I was immediately into her, and followed her around the whole day.

I met Sandy in our hometown of Cincinnati during the summer of 1981. I had been living in NY and was in town to visit my family. My brother and I went with a group of his friends to an amusement park one afternoon, and Sandy was there. I was immediately into her, and followed her around the whole day. I asked her if she’d see me again, and she agreed.


Things between us got serious pretty quickly, but I had to go back to NY. Sandy promised to come visit me, and we reunited in a limo outside LaGuardia over a bottle of Dom and some killer weed. Sandy moved in soon after — she brought her organ, two dogs, a cat, and not much else.



A year later, I wanted to get married, but Sandy said I had to ditch the freelance film biz first. So I took a job as a news producer in Connecticut and proposed again. This time Sandy agreed. We got married in a church on Park and 61st by a Methodist minister. The organist played "Hallelujah March" for the processional and "Bridge on the River Kwai" for the recessional — the guests all whistled along while we marched down the aisle.


The limo that was supposed to take us to the reception wouldn't start, so we had to wait for another one while everyone else was drinking kegs of beer and champagne on a bus we rented to take them to the reception in Little Italy, which was at an old school Italian men's club.


We got the cake from a small little Italian pastry shop — it was a traditional ricotta Italian wedding cake.


There was a lot of dancing — we played a million Frank songs on the juke box and were also gifted an accordion player from Hoboken. The owner had a tenor sing opera songs and requests, which was really cool. Afterwards we all partied in our honeymoon suite at The Waldorf Astoria.