I rarely even glance at the celebrity stories that pop up on my browser’s front page. Justin Bieber? Who he? Lindsay Lohan? Who cares? Lance Armstrong? I know vaguely who he is, but thought for the longest time that “Tour de France” involved visiting vineyards in the Côtes du Rhône. But this story caught my eye and made me happy.
Jim Nabors, 82, the Gomer Pyle of my distant youth, and Stan Cadwallader, 64, his partner of 38 years, have just made honest men of each other. The wedding was in Washington State rather than their home state of Hawaii, because my good neighbours a few clicks to the south have recently legalized same-sex marriage. Good on them.
“”I’m very happy that I’ve had a partner of 38 years and I feel very blessed. And, what can I tell you, I’m just very happy,” Nabors said.”
Good old Gomer. The rawboned, loose-limbed, good-thinking naïf who shambled his way across our small screens in the 60s and 70s – the next thing to a village idiot until he opened his mouth to sing:
Congratulations, Nabors & Cadwallader. Not such an impossible dream, after all.