So many people have asked how Mark and I have met so I decided to dedicate this column to that subject. I was 27 years old,had been in and out of several relationships and a marriage. My last relationship had left me very bitter toward men. In order to understand the significance of this we have to go back 3 years earlier, just after the breakup that sent me on a trip of deep depression. I was very depressed and had spent a lot of time at my parent's house talking with my mentally ill mother. Funny thing about mentally ill people, they seem to have a kind of insight to problems that most of us would never even consider. One afternoon my daughter Jamie and I stopped over to have lunch with my mother. I was feeling especially depressed that day. Sensing my sadness, the first thing my mother said to me was, "Patty Ann, your grandmother would always say that if a man hurts you deeply, you need to stay away from all men until that pain is healed". "Wow mom, you know sometimes you really amaze me with your wisdom". Suddenly her personality changed, "Jesus is your only hope. Love Jesus before..." I quickly packed up my daughter and kissed my mother on the forehead, "Thanks mom. I love you too". I high tailed it out of there feeling all beat up and lonely inside. Her words made me feel better until she started going off on her God ravings.

I started going to a counselor, in my first session she defined depression for me as anger turned inwards. After the second session she sent me to a psychiatrist for a prescription of anti-depressants. I arrived for my appointment and the doctor, being male, rubbed me the wrong way. All he had to do was open his mouth and all the anger toward my former lover I had pent up inside started pouring out. Poor guy didn't know what hit him. I had one more session with my counselor. She told me her plan worked well and we decided that I was finally on the road to healing. I spent the next 2 years having fun releasing my anger on unsuspecting dates, my friends would tell you that I was down right vicious, and maybe I was but for the first time in my life I was defining who I was, and learning to enjoy my independence as a single woman.

My guitar playing was getting pretty good and I decided to venture out and try to find a band to play with. I kept tabs on the musician ads in City Pages and went for a couple of auditions but never made the cut. In March of 1987 I came across an ad looking for a female vocalist and guitar player. This was the first time I spoke with Mark. We spent nights on the phone together talking before we ever met in person. We talked about everything, music, old loves, family, music, drinking, God, jerks, music, politics, sex, jerks, children, music, did I say jerks? I didn't trust men and let him know this from the start. For some strange reason he wanted to prove to me that all men were not jerks. As I think back, this should have been my first warning that the man was a total idiot.

The first time Mark and I met face to face is one of my clearest, brightest memories. I was very nervous about meeting him. My mind soared with what ifs. What if he found me unattractive? What if he thought I was too fat? "Men fuck fat women too". "Get out of my head mom"! What if he ends up being like that one date I had from the personal ads the year before? (What a bomb). What if he didn't like my vocals or guitar playing? What if Mark was unattractive and fat? What if his music was really bad? I really liked the person I got to know on our all night phone calls and wanted everything to turn out great and I really, really wanted to play music with someone.

It was a hot spring evening and the temperature reached record highs. If my memory serves me right, I wore white jeans with a white tee shirt, sneakers and dark sunglasses. As I write this I am struck with the significance of all the white. I was dressed all in white, (mainly because of the searing hot humid temperature), and I was driving a white 1979 Ford Pinto. High ho Silver.

I drove from N E Minneapolis to West 7th Street in St. Paul. The sun was glaring low in the sky as I pulled into a parking spot at Mark's apartment building. Mark was supposed to meet me in the parking lot but no one was there yet. I took my shades off for one last peek at my hair in the rearview mirror and spied the image of a lean but well proportioned man walking into the parking lot. My heart raced as he neared my car. "Oh my god, is that him"? I whispered under my breath. He stood about 5'10 with shaggy long sunset brown hair. All he had on was a teeny tiny pair of gray cotton short shorts. I quickly put my sunglasses back on so he wouldn't be able to see me eying his uninhibited nudity. He was very attractive.

He guided me up several flights of stairs to his tiny closet-like apartment. Turning on the stereo he started playing some recordings of his music. I was in awe of his musical talent and songwriting abilities. I didn't know if I was good enough to play his music but I sure wanted to try. This was the beginning of what would become the future of a life long partnership of friendship, love, and creative collaboration with the idiot hour sneaking into every aspect of our lives when it was least expected.