College is good for two things, and neither of those things are getting a job afterwards. One is the opportunity to claim that you’re still in college when people ask what you’re doing with your life. The other is to find a potential spouse. Biola is no stranger to this last option, as the “ring by spring” and graduating with a “MRS” degree have become universally known sayings around campus. This can be an infuriating experience.
I know what you’re saying, “Zack, all you do is watch reruns of How It’s Made, and your favorite music is ‘The Bicycle Song’ by Queen, what could possibly make you an authority on lasso-ing a lady with a ring?” Well Mrs. Doubting Pants, it just so happens that this summer I got engaged.
As I frantically drove north from Los Angeles, I wondered when would be the best time to ask Beth’s parents for their daughters hand in marriage. Would it be before or after I reveal the fact that I had already proposed?
I was discovering that marriage was actually a tricky thing. Whereas I used to believe that the married life was nothing but videogame playing and “Lost” marathons, now I was starting to realize that it somehow took more than just that to get a future Mrs. Newcott to stick around.
After alerting my brother in law of my predicament he immediately offered a paid trip to Mexico within three hours complete with guns and pitbulls. Nevertheless, I was determined. Beth was the only girl for me, and if that meant I would have to set my current gamer score in “Call of Duty” aside — I would just have to. There are three ways of doing things in this world, the right way, the wrong way, and the Zack Newcott way, which is also still the wrong way except more confusing and involves lots of shrugging of the shoulders.
There are a lot of preconceived notions regarding how to make the most memorable wedding proposal, and most of these involve ball-park signs, hot air balloons, and appearing with long flowing blond hair alongside a wild stallion while holding a carton of “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter.” While I tried to make all those things a reality, I continued to set the actual proposal aside until I had the chance to ask Beth’s parents for the go-ahead.
Although the box was mishapen and uncomfortable, for a month I continued to carry the ring around with me everywhere I went out of fear that if i left it in my room it would be consumed by my stockpile of dirty laundry and empty coke cans, something else I also realize doesn’t quite fit with married life. Eventually I just couldn’t wait any longer.
On a lazy Saturday while Beth and I were making a Facebook profile for our cat Georgie Fruit (add him), I apparently got that crazy look in my eye. Was it a look of passion? Maybe. Whatever it was, it inspired me to pick her up into my arms.
Realizing that I was in no way capable of lifting anything heavier than a remote, much less a human being, I dropped her off on the couch. It was there, in front of my first love, the television, that I asked her to be my wife. She said yes.
In many ways, it was the perfect proposal. Mainly because it came as a surprise to the both of us.
The next day when I took Beth’s parents to the fanciest restaurant I could afford (Mimi’s) I told them Beth and I “wanted to get married.” Their response was an immediate “did she say yes?” Luckily it seemed that they expected I wouldn’t be able to contain myself.
So that’s what I did over my summer vacation. I got engaged. In the process I have joined the ranks of Biola undergrads who have donned their rings before their caps. Am I proud of that? Who knows. But I got the girl of my dreams, and that’s rather something.
