The night before this year’s anniversary we started the celebration with a return to Splash with Fairy Godfather for disco dancing. Beefy men clad only in speedos served us dozens of olives in our “dancing juice” as The Mister called for more martinis. He got a snog from Lady Bunny whose recognizable haystack of hair and 46DD’s clasped by a teensy zebra-patterned dress is only slightly compromised these days by her sensible shoes. We shimmy the night away, our eyes lit by the coruscating mosaic of the mirror ball above us on the dance floor.

We were married in City Hall and exchanged little painted wood rings from Guatemala which had cost us a few dollars and which we promptly lost after the ceremony. We had known each other a mere nine months, most of that time separated by an ocean. He was jet-lagged and I had fortified myself with valium. A trip back to City Hall, recording the updated version of married us—still without wedding bands—would suit us just fine. A return to The Cupping Room in SOHO where we’d had a post-wedding lunch 20 years ago. We could not relive the Bleecker Street Cinema experience that day because the small art house cinema where we sat shell-shocked in the nearly empty theater watching “Wings of Desire” surrounded by buckets catching the rain through the leaking roof was no longer there. So, we opted for Cinema Village and saw a lovely offbeat film, “Sunshine Cleaning.” Halfway through this charming black comedy about suicide and bloody brain matter and, oh, love, I thought, “The Mister I and have the same quirky taste in films. This is why we are married.”

Well, this and a million other reasons. Okay, 20 reasons.

We trawled around in Chinatown until we had to be at The Rockwood Music Hall to see our singer/songwriter friend Joy Askew and her band perform a rockin' set. Champagne awaited us back at home.

Just now an e-mail attachment arrives from “Uncle” Stanley, our trumpet-playing friend in Leicester. It’s a recording of Louis Armstrong singing, “What a Wonderful World.”

I see skies of blue, clouds of white
Bright blessed days, dark sacred night
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.

Indeed.