Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Headed Down South to the Land of the Pines...

This week was kind of like it says in John, if I may paraphrase: If I gave you all of what the last week was like, the blog post would fill the entire internet. But who has the time or the terabytes for that?

Well, Mr. Jack had another fine voyage over to the Port of Mobile. We went over to see Uncle Jay get himself thoroughly married to Aunt Emily and to nick some wedding cake. Everything went according to plan, at least as far as I know, and no one tripped or passed out during the ceremony, or made the bride fall in a swimming pool, like that video that's floating around the internet. The weather cooperated for the most part, which is a big consideration if you're familiar with the Gulf Coast. It rained hard during the ceremony, which was inside, but just about every time the preacher said something profound, like say, that marriage is a solemn bond, ominous thunder... well, thundered in the background. It got everyone to laughing nervously, Jay included. He and Emily pranced out to Weezer's "Island in the Sun," which won the skipper's enthusiastic endorsement. The wedding party then headed out to the reception in the stretch hummer - yes, the stretch hummer. That's why I like my brother in law: He always does things low-key.

Jack loves Tom Petty. Live. That's right, my infant son and I rocked out to the phenomenal band covering Mary Jane's Last Dance. Believe it. I mean, you haven't lived until you've jammed with your baby. And he LOVED the band. He's talking about being a roadie now. The reception was at the Ezell House downtown, which is this beautiful, sprawling, crumbling example of antebellum architecture so typical of the deep deep deepest South. The soirée was pretty sedate inside, being mostly people jockeying for their places in line for the excellent food, remembering who is blood kin to who and avoiding estranged relatives. We were at the outside part of the reception in the carriage house. Like I said, we had the band, so I guarantee those that weren't out there had the inferior time. The highlight of the entire evening was the groom grabbing a guitar and doing "Wagon Wheel" with heavy crowd participation. It was strong. STRONG.

I realized many things during the evening, in no particular order: That I don't dance with my wife enough. That my wife can dance. Really dance. That those dancing lessons actually came in handy, sort of. That I like old, old houses and weddings, especially when I can roam around in a tuxedo. That I believe I was by FAR the oldest groomsman, and over TWICE as old as the youngest one. And that I am okay with that fact. That I truly love my brothers in law. And cake. I love wedding cake.

The greatness of the entire weekend was really evident to me in that I had a blast even though I was sicker than sick (I think cholera has been circulating through the Hard Labor Camp lately). I looked about as green as a watermelon rind during the rehearsal dinner, a condition which was lovingly photographed by a family member that I couldn't manage to strangulate because of my extreme weakness. If I had this good a time in such a rotten condition, what could have I done in tip-top shape? It's the Tootsie Pop commercial: "The world may never know."

Many thanks this week to the best nanny in the entire known universe, the Captain's Great Aunt Gena "They Don't Call Me Great Aunt for Nothing" Bankhead. She had the honor of dodging the skipper's projectile spit up while we were about our groomsman/bridesmaid duties. To the Admiralty for putting us up in the Official Comodoro Hurricane Evacuation Site (a.k.a. the FEMA Trailer) once again and for some of the freshest oysters I have ever eaten, to Jay and Emily for including us, as they're now in the Captain's haunts on Dominica, and the many folks that piled up more booty on the Captain than should be legal. Or that could be stowed in HMS Tahoe.

And one more thanks to my lovely and beautiful wife, Her Majesty, for not killing me and disposing of my body in the river while we were fighting. I mean kayaking. Think Stalin and Churchill at Yalta. Was a close one.


Jennifer said...

Sounds like a fun time. Looking forward to meeting the rest of the crew next week! How does steak, salad and potatoes work for Her Majesty?

El Comodoro said...

Hey hey! Yep, that works for Melanie alright... as long as we can avoid the butter on her taters. Stephen prolly already told you but the main allergies are wheat, rice and dairy. And don't worry we'll try to pay back the hassle when we cook for y'all! And thank you guys again, see you in a few. MW