Once upon a time, on the Ohio River in Newport you could find the best and most American version of a Mexican restaurant. It was known as Don Pablo’s. We, however, affectionately called it “Donny P’s.” Their chips and salsa were our favorite.
When we were but poor college students attending NKU, Donny P, was a frequented restaurant. And by frequented, we mean you could find us there three or four times a week. We could easily get out for under $10 by splitting an order of nachos with ample free chips and salsa. Sometimes we’d splurge on a Coke. That is until Rhett called Ang out on a Coca Cola-addiction and challenged her to give it up for at least a year.
P.S. It’s a little-known-fact that the Columbus Don Pablo’s was the restaurant we chose to go to after Rhett proposed to Ang. Super romantic, right?! Sadly, the day came in 2016 when Don Pablo’s closed its doors for good. In honor of this fine establishment that lives on in our hearts, we ask that you toast and give your best “Ole!” shout. But seriously, you should do it.
Once upon a time, we moved to and lived in a small city known as Florence. As much as we may have hoped it was Florence, Italy, alas it was the much-less-enticing, Florence, Kentucky.
As it turned out, there were, thankfully, a few things going for us on Shadetree Court: (1) We were fairly close to Costco, (2) We could ride our bikes to Nate and Katelyn’s house, (3) our house was pretty amazing – we loved it, and we miss it, (4) Ang had her first hydrangea plant there (yay!). But the by-far-best-thing going for Shadetree were our neighbors.
Daniele and Serena, with baby Santiago in tow, graced our street and we became fast friends. To others we affectionately refer to them as “Our Italians Friends.” Our beautiful Italian Friends introduced us to the Italian Spritz, piadina, copious amounts of grilled meats, and the belief that buying random gifts for yourself might just solve all life’s ailments. We went Trick-or-Treating together each year. Daniele constantly made fun of Ang being “most fit on the street.” They brought their Italian, non-English-speaking family over when they were in town and had them make us a homemade Italian meal. We learned to kiss both cheeks in greeting. And Jolene and Santiago were the best of friends. And coolest of all, they invited us to spend a week with them and their families in Bolgona and Cesenatico, Italy. That week in Italy came at a much-needed time in our marriage and at the tail end of that, we found ourselves on an Adriatic beach getting a necessary reset. If you ever have a chance to become friends with an Italian, be sure to do so. If you’d like to practice being Italian tonight, go ahead and give each other a toast and shout, “Cin! Cin!” (Psst, Americans, you say it “Chin-Chin”.)
We hope you weren’t thinking of the infamous ACT Boot Camp. If you were, you’d be wrong. Once upon a time, back in the day a few months after we were married, we found ourselves living in Ft. Thomas and were less than a 5-minute walk from Tower Park. We began attending this small house church – a group that changed our lives for the better in all the ways. One of the lesser known ways this community changed us was through “Boot Camp.”
Every Saturday, a small contingency would meet at the Tower Park track and be guided through exercises together. But we weren’t just exercising our bodies – Oh, No! We exercised our minds too, memorizing scripture as we did it. Picture ten (at-the-time) twenty-somethings, and one or two thirty-somethings (who are in this room tonight room, but shall remain unnamed), doing walking lunges, frog jumps, or young moms running around the track while holding a baby. And yes, all while simultaneously memorizing and reciting 1 Corinthians 9:24-27. We can’t quite remember how long this tradition stood, but know that it was an infamous enough thing that it was prime gossip at Highland High School as a few of Rhett’s students asked if he was one of those weird “yoga walkers” who went to the track on the weekends.
Mad props to the person at your table who does a few squats and recites loudly “Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize?” But seriously, someone should definitely do this!
Once upon a time, while still early into dating, Rhett shared with Ang his family’s long-loved snack. . . Dorito Nachos. Ang was vehemently against the idea, which probably unnecessarily prolonged the amount of time leading up to her first taste of the delicacy. She now loves them, and the legacy has continued on into Rhett and Ang’s own family.
Dorito Nachos have graced the Barbour home on many occasions: birthdays, while watching sporting events or movies, because the weather just feels right for them. Of all the times Dorito Nachos has made an appearance, none can surpass the night of the 2010 NCAA Men’s Basketball Championship. Joined by our friends the McMurrays (who had already learned of the amazingness of said nachos once before) and the Derringtons (newcomers to this culinary world), we brought out a tray of the infamous Dorito Nachos. They were a hit! Because there were six of us, none of us had quite had our fill, so Rhett quickly made another batch. Wolfed down, we all agreed a third tray was in order! Within five minutes of finishing that third tray, we all said, “Never again!” Since that moment, the Barbour family has lived by a STRICT two-tray limit.
Unfortunately for you, because Dorito Nachos are a multi-generational secret family recipe, we can’t share it here. It cannot live in writing. If you have never tasted this delicacy at our table (maybe we’re actually not true friends), we’re deeply sorry for that. But if you stand up now, with gusto, and a fist in the air, and shout “Never Again!” we will be sure to rectify this tragedy by having you over soon for no more than two trays of our family favorite snack.
What do “shabby chic,” “hand-painted,” “Laura Ashley,” and “ruffled” all have in common? If you answered cottagecore – yes, that’s a word. . . we just learned it from our 16 year old – you’d be wrong.
Most of you here may remember when the internet was small. You know, back in the days of expected long shipping periods, and when you actually PAID for said shipping. In that glorious birthing of the interwebs, owning an e-commerce store was all the rage, and we wanted a slice of the pie!
So, once upon a time, while Rhett was teaching full-time and Ang was in early motherhood, we decided, what the heck?! And with that, myuniqueshowercurtains.com or MUSC was birthed with our dear friends the Treases. We learned how to add products to our webpage, dropship products, manage business taxes, write worthless blog posts for SEO purposes long before the online Genie of today known as chatgpt. Turns out, unique shower curtains – hand-painted or not – is not a lucrative business. But, if you would like an extra slice of pie (actually, tonight it will be cake), stand up and shout unabashedly, “Make my curtain shabby chic!”
Once upon a time we were only married for ten years. For our 10th Wedding Anniversary we really wanted to throw a party like tonight’s. As we thought about it we realized we had a very important choice in front of us:
Like any young 30-somethings valuing the sanctity, tradition, and honor of marriage. . . we chose the latter option and booked our flights! First stop: Norway, the land of Ang’s ancestors. We have now been to Norway twice. The first was epic in so many ways: walking through downtown Oslo, checking out the beauty of the Oslo City Building (we know, it sounds boring, but is amazing!), walking through a historical Viking village, traversing the country on what’s known as “the world’s most beautiful train ride,” coming down a mountain in a bus and making seven rather scary switchbacks while overlooking steep cliffs, strolling the most amazing statue-filled public park, and cruising through the Norwegian fjords by boat.
Our second trip to Norway was epic for mainly one reason: We proposed, with our good friends the Ericksons, to fly there and back in 72-hours. What is the one thing you should do on a 72-hour trip to Oslo? Sauna and cold plunge in the fjord.
Of all the memories from our first epic trip to Norway, two things stood out most to Ang. First, the beautiful, lusciously green, moss-filled, fairy-like park in Bergen (hence the name of this table). Second, whenever you read a Norwegian sign, it always sounds like something hilarious in English. So, if you really want to show your love for us – prove to everyone here that you earned your spot at the head table – then you should stand up, with your best Norwegian accent, and shout with pride the best sign we saw, which read something like this: “I’m full of camel farts.”
Once upon a time Rhett and Ang first called Erlanger home. We loved Erlanger. If you ask Rhett why Erlanger is so great, he will undoubtedly say because it has the best interstate access of any NKY city. It’s the little things, folks …especially when you’re young, dumb, and poor twenty-two year olds.
Our first apartment in Erlanger was on Bartlett Avenue. Now, we don’t expect you to know right off where Bartlett Avenue is, but you may know where Dixie Chili on Dixie Highway is. And if you don’t, well, you should. Our apartment was so close to Dixie Chili, we could legitimately hear people giving their order in the pick-up line on a nice spring day when our windows were open. We even joked that we could give our own order FROM our bedroom window.
In honor of our new love in that season, shout out your go-to Dixie Chili order. If you don’t have one, you can shout out Ang’s, which is of course the only right option: “Two chili-cheese sandwiches, no mustard, heavy onion, add mayonnaise.”
Growing up, Rhett played tennis. And not just played it, but it was like a thing. Rhett’s summers were spent either playing on the tennis courts or dragging the tennis courts (that’s really a thing).
Ang, on the other hand, played everything but tennis. For her, spending every summer in Lower Alabama on her grandmother’s mostly isolated farm, there wasn’t much to do. One day around age ten while perusing the TV channels, she came upon professional tennis for the first time and was hooked. After teaching herself to understand the game and becoming a die-hard fan of Martina Hingis and Pete Sampras, Ang decided she would marry a tennis player. Summer after summer, Ang would sit in her grandmother’s house and watch Wimbledon.
Then, once upon a time about eight years later, in the Florence O’Charley’s, Ang would meet her future tennis-playing husband. After a few weeks of “hanging out” they went on their first date as an official couple . . . and where was the date? Where else but the Cincinnati Masters Tennis Tournament. Rhett had it all: good looks and good tickets (like really good tickets thanks to a family connection). This started a yearly tradition of spending as many days and nights as they could at the ATP. Eventually this led to their kids becoming ballkids for the Cincinnati ATP/Open.
A dream both Rhett and Ang shared separately, and then eventually together, was to attend Wimbledon in person. In July 2010, Rhett and Ang were able to make this dream a reality. Years later, after perfectly indoctrinating all of their children to also be tennis super-fans, they took their kids on a Wimbledon tour and capped their experience with the traditional strawberries and cream. In honor of that moment, you should shout out, “Game, Set, Match!!”
Once upon a time, Rhett and Ang shared a honeymoon to Grand Cayman together. What happens when you place bull-headed and conflictual newlyweds on a 7-mile beach for 14 days with no friends? A lot of frustration and regret on both sides. To make matters worse, Hurricane Wilma made an appearance, forcing them in their room for two days straight.
For most newly weds, two days of being forced to their rooms sounds like just the right combination. For Rhett and Ang, this was a recipe for a fiery disaster. Day one was quite rough. Day two was even worse . . . until . . . our marriage was unexpectedly saved by Rueben Feffer.
The movie “Along Came Polly” had come out a little over a year earlier. And when Wilma’s winds limit what you can access on your hotel TV, you take what you can get, and what we could get was “Along Came Polly”. It was literally the tension-releaser we needed. So much laughter was conjured that much of the strife of the earlier eight days was lifted. Rhett and Ang walked away with a new common language filled with movie one-liners, many of which are still said today between them. Who knows where their marriage would be today without this fortunate film moment. Celebrate the beginnings of a happy marriage by shouting, “Hey Rueben!”
In every marriage, someone tends to be the butt of all the jokes. In Rhett and Ang’s marriage, all the jokes are on Ang. At the end of the day, she likes it that way – after all it probably just means she’s funnier. (It’s a little known fact, actually, she was voted Class Clown in high school, so there’s likely a good amount of truth there). Because your table isn’t rotating, we thought we’d give you our three best laugh-at-Ang’s-expense moments.
Numero Uno: Once upon a time, after only three weeks of marriage, Rhett and Ang helped their church as youth group leaders at the summer camp in Florida. One afternoon during freetime, Ang decided to seek out her husband who was sleeping in the boys’ rooms. As she walked in, six young bros crowded the TV around an Xbox, and sure enough, Rhett was fast asleep in bed with the blanket pulled up to his ears to drown out the noise. Being a kind wife, Ang tried to rouse Rhett awake gently, by rubbing his back and whispering softly to wake him. This unfortunately was not having a very good effect. Rhett remained OUT. After another minute or two, Ang pulled out the big guns to get Rhett’s attention. She leaned down, right above his ear, whispered for him to wake up while she also slipped the hand that had been rubbing his back, down to rub his bum. Well, as she hoped, this got his attention, and there came his head rolling around to see her. Only two inches below her lips was not Rhett, but their good friend Nick Derington, who was also a leader. Most people who had just been unintentionally man-handled would have been taken aback, but Nick went with the flow, asking promptly, “Did you just rub my bum?!” right as Rhett stepped out of the bathroom.
Numero Dos: Years later, Rhett and Ang found themselves blissfully awaiting their first child. While there was excitement in the air, there was not much money in the bank so Ang became a crazy couponer. As a crazy couponer, there’s always a moment when one hits the JACKPOT! One week, Ang did just that when there was a super sale PLUS a BOGO coupon for her all-time favorite Frosted Flakes cereal. Ang knew what she had to do: buy a year’s supply of cereal. Twenty boxes for only 50 cents each!! It was seriously the deal of a lifetime. After filling her buggy (that’s a grocery cart for all of you originating from the North) to the brim with only cereal boxes – afterall what else can you squeeze into a Frosted Flakes filled buggy?! – and ignoring all the stares from other customers and an inquisition from the cashier, Ang victoriously put her cereal boxes in their pantry. When she got to share her accomplishment with Rhett that afternoon after he returned home from work, she had never felt more victorious. Rhett on the other hand, was quite skeptical, because, who in their right mind buys 20 boxes of cereal for a house where only one person (Ang!) eats cereal?
Here’s the place in the story where we must remind you of two very important facts: (1) Ang was pregnant, and (2) Ang’s favorite food was Frosted Flakes. Another important fact you may not be aware of at this point in time, is that while Rhett was at work all day, Ang was at home “getting ready for their baby.” This was actually code for “eating Frosted Flakes,” because by the end of the month, thirty days later, Ang had eaten her year’s supply of Frosted Flakes. . . entirely alone.
Numero Tres: There are some stories in a marriage that live on in infamy. And this one, (yes, another Ang moment), is one of those. Once upon a time Rhett and Ang went to their dear friends’, Chris and Morgan Brizinskis’, wedding. Above all else, Ang wanted to be comfortable in her clothes at this wedding, she was a mom of three at the time and nursing one of them. An hour before the wedding, Ang puts on her dress and shows Rhett. His immediate response: “Are you wearing a nightgown?” This was NOT a nightgown; it was a very chic and fashionable babydoll dress – all the things that Ang assured Rhett of in the moment. Rhett looked at her with his all-to-common sideways skeptical eye and said he needed to get in the shower. As soon as Ang heard the shower curtain close, she sprinted next door to her friend Laura and asked her, “Do you think this looks like a nightgown?”
Laura, being very astute, doesn’t answer, but cross-examines: “Is it a nightgown?” Ang is trapped, but can’t give in already, so responds with an indifferent, “I may or may not have bought it in the lingerie department at Target.” Laura does what any great friend would do and bursts out laughing. Per usual, Ang strides away lacking no self-esteem saying, “All I have to do is act confident, and no one will even question it.” Quickly she sprints back to the house, so Rhett is none the wiser to her being away, and off to the wedding they head.
All night, Ang receives glances from other ladies at the wedding – particularly one woman they barely knew at their table. But true to character, Ang doesn’t let anyone in on her self-sworn-secrecy. Eventually, they end up at their table alone with other good friends, Mark and Heather Treas, and Rhett can’t take it anymore. He asks them: “Guys. What would you say Ang’s dress is? Is it a nightgown or a dress.” They give their best guesses and she laughs everything off like it’s not a big deal, but then Rhett gives her the stink eye and forces the truth out of her in front of their friends/witnesses. Ang confesses: “I may or may not have bought it in the lingerie section of Target.” The table loses it in a riot right as they are released to grab their food. It only gets better from here. While grabbing salads, Ang and Heather are laughing uncontrollably about the night’s escapades, and Ang drops her salad to the floor. Rhett, who is already further down the line by this point, sees Ang start to bend down to clean up the salad, and has a Full Freakout Moment. With both arms swinging wildly in the air, he shouts above all the wedding music, “No! DON’T!! You’re wearing a nightgown!” To this day we’re pretty sure it was a tie as to who got more stares in that moment, crazy Rhett or “maybe-it’s-a-nightgown” Ang.