Palestine is a small, east Texas city between Dallas and the other small Texas city where I went to college. The place was a little boring, but Palestine’s small newspaper was a great place to start my career.

Way back in 1975, the paper featured pictures of couples celebrating their “golden” wedding anniversaries. The black-and-white images of excited young couples on their wedding day were always printed next to photos of a couple of old codgers staring at the camera.

As I celebrate my 45th wedding anniversary this month, I wonder: Am I that bleary-eyed old woman staring at the camera? I like to think not. I am, after all, a product of modern pharmaceuticals and expensive cosmetics, to say nothing of relatively clean living.

All my vim and vigor aside, I believe I am finally able to comment on what it takes to get to the 45-year mark — and how I plan to make it to the “golden” half-century.

I have an unusual perspective on marriage. My husband and both of my children are attorneys who have handled hundreds of divorces. I worked in my husband’s office for a fascinating and stressful two years.

Besides learning how hard it is to be a legal assistant, I also learned a lot about how marriages fail.

The walls in the tiny office we occupied back then were thin. My desk was beside my husband’s office door.

In addition to clients weeping, I heard a lot about how not to make a marriage work. Here, then, are Frances Coleman’s golden rules of having a long and happy marriage. (Remember, I learned this in a law office handling divorces.)

1.   Don’t think you can change the way your boyfriend or girlfriend behaves by marrying that person.

2.   Don’t be a drug addict, and don’t marry one.

3.   Don’t be a drunk, and don’t marry one of those, either.

4.   Don’t be violent, and don’t marry a violent person. (If you’re married to one, get out. Now.)

5.   Don’t marry a person who has fundamental values that are different from yours.

6.   Don’t marry for money. In the long run, it doesn’t pay very well.

7.   The last and most important rule: Marry someone who cares more about you than he does about himself. If that’s reciprocal, you’ll have a happy marriage.

Back in the days before cell phones, the internet and tattooed teenagers, there was a cartoon called “Peanuts.” In a three-panel strip, one of the girls says, “Why do you love me, Charlie Brown?” Charlie Brown answers, “Because you love me, I guess.” The girl replied, “That’s not a very good reason.”

Indeed. The kind of love and devotion that it takes to be married is not a transaction. “Look, let’s get married because you have a lot to offer me and I have a lot to offer you” is a recipe for disaster. If you don’t care about the other person more than you care about yourself, it won’t work. And it must run both ways.

The other little rules will fall into place.

Comedian and old-car aficionado Jay Leno said in a radio interview, “Marry someone who’s the person you wish you could be, and it works out OK.’”  I can’t disagree with that, but I would add that you’ve got to marry the right person.

How do you know who’s the right person?

That’s both easy and difficult. Think about what I’ve set out here, and then when you meet the right person, you’ll get to a point where you know that you should marry him or her as well as you know your name. If you don’t get to that point, then don’t get married.

You should also question the wisdom of staying in a relationship with someone you don’t care that much about.

Is my husband perfect? No. (Although he would disagree.) Is he perfect for me? Yes, as nearly as I can tell after 45 years.

On the anniversary date itself, we didn’t have a candlelit dinner with roses and champagne. We weren’t trying to “recapture the magic.” We never lost it. We spent the evening with our children, grandchildren and some friends, celebrating something that has been fun and rewarding.

If we make it another five years, I won’t be looking out from a newspaper photograph at you. There aren’t a lot of newspapers anymore. And if I look out at you from a Facebook page or on TikTok or whatever may be in vogue, then I won’t be looking back at the past.

I’ll be looking forward to whatever time is left to us, with the anticipation that the fun will continue.

And I am certain that it will.

Frances Coleman is a former editorial page editor of the Mobile Press-Register. Email her at [email protected] and “like” her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/prfrances.