Three weeks after I got married, my wife and I were out fishing near the Chesapeake Bay Bridge at Sandy Point. We were chumming for stripers when a yellowjacket landed on my wrist and nailed me. I shook my wrist violently the yellowjacket flew off and so did my wedding ring. The ring quickly sunk out of sight in 70 feet of water. My wife wanted me to put on my scuba gear and try to find it, but I convinced her it was lost forever. She bought me another on our first anniversary. That was a half-century ago. I guess it's still down there in the Chesapeake's gooey, black mud.