I think Milton was turning 40 in 1995 or maybe I just wanted to do something different, but for his birthday that year, I planned a surprise trip to Vegas. I made reservations for the hotel, where we would stay, and bought the plane tickets. The hardest part was figuring out how to get him to go to work without his car. The reason I didn’t want him to drive to work that day was because I wanted to pick him up after work and head straight for the airport. I came up with some ruse as to why I should drive him to work that morning. He left his car at home. Then I came home and packed for both of us.

That afternoon, I went to pick Milton up at the Holiday Inn, on Van Ness, in San Francisco, where he as working. He didn’t seem suspicious at all. He started talking about his day as usual as if nothing was out of the ordinary. We got onto the freeway at Van Ness and Dubuce and usually I would get into the the left lanes to go toward the Bay Bridge, but I stayed to the right onto 101. Milton seemed to think I was confused or something and was a little irritated, “Where are you going?” he asked.

“I’m taking you out to dinner for your birthday.”

We drove toward the airport.

Milton kept wanting to know where we were going to dinner. I finally told him that I was taking him to dinner in Las Vegas. He seemed totally shocked and in disbelief. It was so much fun. In another hour, we would be in Vegas.