1990 was an exciting year by almost any standard.  Our nation was engaged in the 19th century's last unrestrained display of superpower military derring-do in preparing to free Kuwait from the grip of the antichrist (played by Saddam Hussein).  Popular democratic movements swept across Eastern Europe.  After more than 27 years in prison, South Africa released Nelson Mandela.   These events and others helped to ignite optimism and confidence in peoples' hearts.  The Palestinian uprising against Israeli intransigence was in its 5th year.  The foundations were being laid for the great transformation of industrial society into an information society.    In a July 15, 1990 article for The Washington Post, U.S. Senator Al Gore writes, "Just as the interstate highway system made sense for a postwar America with lots of new automobiles clogging crooked two-lane roads, a nationwide network of information superhighways now is needed to move the vast quantities of data that are creating a kind of information gridlock."  Microsoft released Windows 3.0.  The program that would become the foundation for the World Wide Web was written in Switzerland.
 
Even Wisconsin was in the news: Musician Stevie Ray Vaughn and some colleagues were killed in a helicopter crash near Alpine Valley.  In Milwaukee, WI., the paths of two young people crossed in a 1920's movie palace called the Paradise Theatre.  The movie playing that night was Woody Allen's Manhattan (we showed that Tuesday thru Thursday, September 18-20, 1990).  Manhattan, if you are not familiar with the plot, is centered around Allen's relationship with a high school student (played by Mariel Hemingway).  It is a beautifully filmed movie, with captivating cinematography of the title city.  I think that by the time Jen came in to see it, I had already seen it two or three times.  The elements and conflicts of the plot clearly exerted some influence on my perceptions
that evening. I can't remember if I sold Jen her ticket, but I seem to recall selling her popcorn.  It would not have been unusual for me to have worked both at the ticket booth and the concession counter.  There is a dim memory of witty banter about gummi bears, but no specifics come back to me.  I would like to say that she bought Junior Mints (one of her favorite concession candies), but I know that we were not selling Junior Mints at that time. She also likes licorice, which I know we sold ($1.50 for 17 cents worth of sugar and water- you can't beat that), so perhaps she bought licorice.  

I think I recall observing that (1) she was not wearing any makeup and (2) she had a waifish appearance.  These were perhaps the two most attractive things to me in any woman. I got her phone number as she was leaving after the movie.  This is the part, I think, that has become somewhat exaggerated over the years. (Ed. - Yea right! We got it all right here bro! :-) Whatever I asked her, I think it is prudent to recall what movie we were showing just then!  I called her a few days later, and it seems to me that she was taking a bath while we spoke.  It is not unusual that she would be in the bath, because nobody loves a good, hot bath better than Jen.  I am not sure why she told me that at that particular moment, but that is my recollection.  We went on our first date to the Bamboo Inn on Locust Avenue, a few blocks from where she lived.  It was an okay restaurant; I ate there once more after that and the place closed a few years ago.  She wore a red dress in a style from the 40's.  I remember seeing her walking down the street from about three blocks away.  Looking at her in the outdoor sunlight, I saw that she was still not wearing any makeup and, in the ankle length dress, looked particularly waifish.  I was smitten.