The Slice: To see or not to see … that is the question

You make the call.

At the risk of sounding like a legislator who wimped out on a tough issue by urging that it be put on the November ballot, I’d like to ask for your help.

Slice reader Susie Schmidt sent me a snapshot she took a few years ago. She thought I might want to run it in my column.

The photo was taken at Duncan Gardens on Sept. 1, 2002. It shows a formally attired young couple in some stage of getting married. They’re smiling.

“Somehow I think this couple would love to have this picture,” wrote Schmidt, who just happened to be there that day.

At the moment the photo was taken, the beaming bride was gazing at the groom. It’s quite a look. And Schmidt picked up the following exchange.

“Are you happy?” the bride asked.

“Yes,” said the groom.

The thing is Schmidt has no idea who these people are. That’s where The Slice comes in.

She proposed that I print the photo and then facilitate getting it to the couple, assuming someone recognizes them.

But we’re both concerned. What if they didn’t live happily ever after?

What if they are divorced? What if tragedy has befallen one of them?

Seeing that picture in the newspaper could be devastating.

Still, with wedding season looming and considering The Slice’s fondness for love stories, I’m tempted to take a chance. But I want a second opinion.

I’ve come to trust the collective judgment of my readers over the years. So let me ask.

What do you think I should do?

“Staff of life: Sandy O’Connor’s cat, Tommy, isn’t afraid of filling up on the bread. He craves it, she said.

The carbo-loading feline has been known to chew through all sorts of bags to access sliced bread, rolls, bagels and what have you.

“The only safe haven for bread items is the top of the refrigerator,” wrote O’Connor.

It seems like any self-respecting cat ought to be able to get up there. But maybe Tommy has had too much bread.

“Insert unprintable example here: Coeur d’Alene’s Jack Hodge isn’t wild about some of the contexts in which his first name appears.

“Slice answer: “I was born May 21, 1927, the day Lindbergh landed in Paris,” wrote North Sider Jean Barrett. “It has been a great 79 years.”

“Warm-up question: Do husbands and wives now try to find ways to avoid refueling the car in the hopes that their spouse will be the one to do it and take the cash-depletion hit?

“Today’s Slice question: Has buying condoms become matter of fact and mundane?