On this 16th anniversary of my marriage to My Love, I’m happy to report our wedded bliss is still unspoiled.
We have been told the same is true of our marital can of Spam.
Our friends gave us Mork (named so by me as it is a “meat like pork”), leaving it along with hundreds of unpopped popcorn kernels on our honeymoon bed.
The popcorn, I know, was an homage to my bride’s Cornhusker State upbringing. But Spam? I can be a ham, but did I forget some greater symbolism behind this gift?
So I called the U.S. Library of Congress. That’s where Justin, one of the purchasers of Mork, earns a living.