Ahhh, I’ll Have to Pencil This Wedding In. Good? Great! Bye.
Well, the day finally arrived. Christopher Arthur Graeter was marrying Kim Daniels. Mark #1 was in town and had finally stopped crying about the fact that his Trojans just could not get it done this year. He offered to drive to the wedding, so I drove over to his parents’ house. I planned to wear my trusty suit, which has gotten me through many a High Holy days, weddings, funerals, court appearances, celebrity food fights, and diorama competitions. However, when I put the pants on, they did not even come close to fitting around my waste. Over the past year or so, I weighed the most I have ever weighed (195 lbs.) and lost fifteen pounds to get back to sleeker, more aerodynamic look. Apparently, though, this suit was fitted to a much slimmer Kirk. I suppose it is about time to get some new suits. So, I was reduced to wearing black pants, a blue striped shirt, a navy tie, and some shiny black shoes. Needless to say, it was still an attractive ensemble.
I arrived at #1’s house ready to crash this wedding. Mark was wearing some sort of suit with a lavender shirt. I never thought of him as a lavender shirt kind of guy, but I suppose he has been in Los Angeles for a few years now. I chatted with the Massey’s for a while, joking about Mark’s lack of internet savvy, even in this day and age. They confided that he has always been a little bit slow. Then Mark came in the room and we pretended to talk about something else. He did not seem to notice. It was time to head to the wedding. Mark drove us in his mother’s car, a 1975 “woodie” station wagon. The Massey’s have it suped up, and this baby runs on Ice-32
We arrived at the Rainbow lodge. The parking lot was already packed. There was curbside valet service, so we just drove up, and a man in a white dinner jacket, slicked-back black hair, and a generous mustache opened my car door. I brought the wedding invitation in with me thinking we would need it to gain admission to the wedding, but this was not the case. I was at a loss as to what to do with it during the ceremony as it was a 11.5″ x 13″ piece of card stock paper. That is one thing about Christopher, he was always into big party invitations. I remember one time he was having this party to celebrate his twenty-first birthday. The invitation came rolled up in an eight-foot-long mailing tube.
Whenever there are large gatherings of people, I am guaranteed to make at least a few faux pas’s in the evening. Most of the time, they are somewhat intentional. When we walked into the outdoor wedding area, I made an unintentional social gaffe of epic proportions. The first person we met at the beginning of the bridge over the ravine leading to the wedding was Kim’s step father. I addressed him by the wrong name. I knew as the words came out of my mouth that it was incorrect, but I could not stop them from coming out. Even if I could have stopped them, I would have been in a whole other pickle. The “Mister” would have already been out of the bag; and once you unleash that beast, it cannot be tamed except by a surname of some sort. Now, had I been on my toes, I could have pulled a New Orleans and called him “Mister Randy” and then played it off as if I just picked up the habit in NOLA. Unfortunately, that Saturday was a slow-Kirk day. To his credit, Mr. Broiles acted with superior grace. He made a half-second look of confusion before greeting me by the correct name. As we crossed the bridge, I told Mark of the incident, and he seemed amused. He always finds my social failures amusing. He still has not gotten over how I taunted him in seventh grade math over the difference in our scores on a particular exam. Also, I did hit him once in the face just days after he had major oral surgery; but in my defense, I forgot that he had had surgery. Then, of course, there was the time I taunted him continuously over the painful loss USC suffered against our beloved Longhorns. That was four days prior, so he was probably still a bit bitter about that situation.
About halfway across the bridge, there were a couple of Lodge staff members serving hot cocoa with marshmallows. This seemed like a good treat, considering there was a slight chill in the air. Before the staff member would release the cocoa into my custody, though, he had to confirm that I was not allergic to marshmallows. I did not even know there was such a thing as a marshmallow allergy. Are not marshmallows just sugar, somehow transformed into a pillowey confection? Perhaps someone can enlighten me.
I was beginning to run out of hand space. I was still holding the 149.5 inches squared invitation, a program that someone handed me, and my cocoa. The program detailed the participants in the wedding and the order in which things were supposed to happen. We finally were able to cross the bridge which dropped us right in back of the last row of chairs. Immediately, I noticed that the chairs were facing the front marriage gazebo. The whole thing was located on gentle positive slope. As we walked down the path toward the aisle we ran into Mrs. Mayfield and Mr. and Mrs. Graeter. The right side was the groomiary side, so after exchanging brief pleasantries, we were directed to our seats. On the way to sitting down, I saw Jeff Prewitt and briefly exchanged words with him. I knew I would have more to say to him later in the evening.
The reason I bring up the slope of the wedding area is because it caused the chairs to be leaning back in their natural state. As such, wedding viewers had to be careful not to topple backwards. That did not seem too difficult to avoid, however. I figured only someone who is quite foolish would fall back. A string quartet was playing music as we sat and waited for the ceremony to begin. Mark started talking to some old aquaintance from Episcopal high school. I met this guy later on, and I believe he is a lobbyist in Washington D.C. He was probably happy to have a respite from issues surrounding that guy in the fedora.
The officiant (I believe he was an Anglican reverend) stood at the gazebo. The quartet began playing the procession song and we were off to the races. The aisle was rather small, so some parts of the coming down the aisle were slightly cramped. I do not remember who was escorting whom, but I know Eric Mehlhoff escorted a grandmother down the aisle. Wilson, the best man, escorted the the maid of honor, Katherine. Wilson is good at escorting people. I could write one of many stories about Wilson at this point, but I am choosing to not do so. It is probably enough that I bring up his attire at the medieval feast every chance I get. The other groomsman was Gran Potter. He was the court jester at the medieval feast, mostly on account of his passable juggling skills.
Once everyone was in place, Kim came down the aisle with her parents. The path was treacherously narrow, but they all made it without catching on fire. Kim arrived with little fanfare at the marriage gazebo. The Reverend greeted everyone and said a few words of welcome. We were asked to rise, but he warned us to be careful not to have a chair-on-hill related accident. I began to stand up, but halfway through the process, I realized that I was in fact sitting down again. I was not attempting to sit back down, and it was happening quite quickly. The only thing that kept me from hitting that chair, toppling backwards down the hill, and ruining the wedding was that the lady in front of me had not stood yet. I was able to grab her chair to stablize myself.
The usual wedding stuff went down involving rings, vows, kisses, and blessings. The reverend made a right, pretty speech and some of the important virtues of being married and some of the responsibilities involved. He talked about all manners of forsaking; forsaking others, forsaking needless anger and brooding, forsaking work, and forsaking too many pies. I’ll be the first to say, pies is going to be the hardest to resist. The way I see it, there are many different types of pies, each with its own, unique characteristics. Some pies are obvious like cream pies and pumpkin pies. But what about shepherd’s pie? You might eat like half of that before you realize it’s a pie. It is going to be a long, hard road, but I trust Christopher will be able to resist excessive pies. He should also stay away from the House of Pies, but there are many other reasons to not go there.
The service ended and the recessional began. Things were a bit hectic and I think Eric escorted a different grandmother out of the wedding area. The reverend told those of us not part of the wedding party to go inside and start drinking while the wedding photos were taken. Who was I to argue? As we were making our way out the the chairs, Mark and I ran into an old face from St. Francis. This face, and the body it was attached to belonged to Mike Crawley. I had not seen Mike since we had a St. Francis reunion at #1’s house senior year of high school. Mike is married now to a nice girl whose name is Sarah, I think. We chatted with Mike as we walked back across the bridge and into the lodge area where the reception was being held. Jeff Prewitt and Mrs. Prewitt also joined us as we walked. Jeff and I talked about interim principle, Mr. Ulhe, as well as Jeff’s antics during religion class taught by interim reverend, Mrs. Suarez. We all had to write essays once in that class because Jeff hurled a derogitory term in the direction of Ashley Crum. Also discussed were Mrs. Unger, Señora Remeck, and the Macho Man Randy Savage. Mr. Savage substituted for a couple of weeks during sixth grade math when Mrs. Lindsay had to go to The Hague.
I was not aware, but the Rainbow room is a sort of hunting lodge type restaurant. It has a high end log cabin feel to it. Apparently, it is a well-regarded restaurant that specializes in serving game. Much of the food served in the evening was game. There was a man walking around handing out skewered buffalos and quails and miniature tea cups of elbow macaroni and cheese. The cheese may have been game cheese, but I am not sure. Going along with the game theme, this three story hunting lodge was filled with stuffed, mounted animal heads. There were bison, caribou, deer, moose, and one duck billed platipus.
After signing the guest book, we made our way back to the main room where there was a band playing. Rainbow Lodge employees were industriously working to prepare the dinner buffet. There was a large, outdoor balcony area overlooking a wooded area. Mark immediately ordered a Long Island Iced Tea, the first of many. We ate skewered buffalo and macaroni and continued our conversation with Mike. This conversation covered a wide range of topics. Mike’s wife is a teach and we talked about that for a while. However, the one question which has always been on my mind for years, I did not ask. What did the vocalization, “dow-guiss”, mean? I cannot believe I neglected to find out from Mike, who frequently used that expression in middle school but never revealed its definition.
At some point, it became clear that Chris, Kim, and the rest of the wedding party were done taking glamour shots. They came outside to where we were and had their first dance in that outdoor area. I did think the song they chose was somewhat questionable. I don’t think I have ever been to a wedding in which a Beastie Boys song played for the first dance, or any dance for that matter. However, I was not the bride or groom, so my opinion means little. During the first dance, a third party did try to briefly enter the fray, but this person was escorted off by security. There were about twenty posted guards throughout the wedding compound. These guys looked like special forces commandos. Some of them were heavily camouflaged and it was hard to tell they were even there. At one point, I was eating hors d’oeuvres out off a serving plate. I was there a good ten minutes before I realized the plate was being held by one of the camouflaged commandos.
After the first dance, dinner food began being served at the buffet. The line quickly became long and some of us outside decided we would prefer to socialize and drink things until the line situation improved. So we stayed outside. We managed to make our way over to Chris and Kim to offer congratulations. They seemed pretty happy with the way things had turned out. I was able to figure out that they had no idea about the “pudding incident”, and I am pretty sure they never did find out about it. I mingled for a while talking to Mrs. Mayfield, the Potters, the Graeters, and the Prewitts. Wilson and I almost came to blows; and, several times, we tried to schedule a fight in the parking lot. However, I kept getting worried that I would get cramps during the fight, so we kept pushing the time back to account for the impending dinner. We never did get around to fighting, so I will have to call him back up to reschedule.
Suddenly, Mr. Broiles was up on the area overlooking the dance floor where the band was set up. He was going to make a toast to Chris and Kim. His toast was the in the form of a top ten list. The topic was ‘Top Ten Reasons The Bride and Groom Should be Together’. I do not remember all of the reasons he gave. I remember three of them for sure. One is that they are foodies. I think this means that they both like to eat food. The next one I remember is that they are both really in to Starbucks. I did not know Kim was into the ‘Bucks (as I like to call it) but I have known of Chris’ propensity for purchasing expensive coffee-drinks for a long time. When we were in high school, he would buy the $15 iced coffee-drinks made with ice from the purest springs of Norway. As I understand it, he now gets the $35 drink known as “The Sister Jessica”. It can be served hot or over pure Norwegian ice. The coffee comes from a plantation in Bolivia that is on the property of a convent of the Roman Catholic Church of Bolivia, and is picked by the nuns who live in the convent. These coffee beans are highly sought after and garner a high price in the market place due to the belief that they are holy beans. The sale of the beans generate more than enough money sustain the convent. The money also allows the nuns to do many good works for the communities around the convent. But I digress…
The number one reason on the top ten list was about how they are just made for each other. It was nice. After he finished speaking, he told us that anyone else who wanted to make a toast throughout the night could go up to the band area and ask them to quiet the wedding guests with some creative drum playing. People started to mingle again and talk. I felt it was high time to get in line to get some food. Mark was being a real follower that night and followed me into the food line. There was a vast assortment of food that evening. Going along with the theme of the Rainbow Lodge, most of the food was gamey and wild. There was quail stuffed with buffalo stuffed with additional quail marinated in rabbit. There was a noodle and shrimp dish. The shrimp were clearly wild. The noodles were Venezuelan jungle noodles. These are some of the most dangerous noodles there are, and it takes a skilled archer to hunt them. They are also quite tasty. There were also wild game potatoes. They were baked, but this was no ordinary baked potato. Ordinary baked potato is not much of a wedding food. There’s all that skin and you have to mix all your ingredients without tearing the skin. I have quite a few problems with the execution of this process, so I generally do not eat potatoes in public. However, the Rainbow Room turned this troublesome side item into an elegant wedding dish worthy of the reception of Prince Charles and that lady. The potato mix was taken from the potato shells and hand scooped into a large wine glass. This made it much easier for me to fix my potato without making a mess. I felt liberated.
Mark used his connections with Eric, the raving groomsman, to get us a seat at a table on the third or fourth floor. We took our food up there and sat overlooking the forested area surrounding the lodge. We could even see the wedding staging area. It looked quite a bit smaller from the third floor than it did when we were sitting there. Neither Mark nor I had remembered to acquire beverages prior to making our way to the third floor. At first it seemed that we would have to go all the way back down to get drinks. However, Eric used his status as groomsman to have a third party get drinks for us. I had another cola beverage. Mark had yet another Long Island Iced Tea. I am not sure what Eric drank, but I am sure it was complicated.
During the meal, we recapped the wedding, and Eric gave us the insider’s, behind-the-scenes lowdown on the making of this whole affair. There were probably other topics of discussion, but I stopped listening because nobody was talking about ME. Mrs. Graeter was walking around and talked to us for a few minutes. After eating I wandered down one flight of stairs and was in front of a bar. Who do I see in front of the bar? None other than Jeffrey Prewitt. Jeff and I had some words earlier and it was time to hash things out between us. Jeff seemed much quieter than he had been earlier, so I did most of the talking. I covered a wide range of topics revolving around religion, meta-physics, and metallurgy. Jeff just stared at me. This went on for about half an hour. Then Gran came up and told me that I was not talking to Jeff. It was actually a mounted caribou head. Fortunately nobody was around and Gran said he would not tell anybody.
We went in the other room, and much of the old middle school gang was there. Mark was drinking a Long Island Iced Tea. Wilson was brooding, likely over being the first one to be dismissed in the second grade spelling bee. I was also dismissed from this bee. I spelled “announce” A-N-O-U-N-C-E. He was the best man in this wedding, so he had to quell his emotions so he did not do something crazy like eat the wedding rings or yell at the reverend. He did a good job of best-manning. Gran was talking to adults. He is good at that. I lose focus too quickly. The real Jeff, not fake caribou Jeff, was a cool customer. No doubt, he was observing the situation, absorbing the happenings to put into his new play, entitled, “Dunce on Fifth Avenue.” Mike and Sarah Crawley were there. It is always weird to see Mike these days because back in middle school, he completed his growing procedures by fifth grade, so he was always much bigger than us. Now he is about at eye level which puts a whole new perspective on things. Robert Mayfield was there and Wilson was berating him. I chatted with Mr. Potter and took a crazy picture with Mrs. Potter and Mrs. Prewitt where I displayed my rock-and-roll face.
After additional chatting, I wandered back down stairs. Apparently the wedding cakes had been cut, and nobody had notified me. Cake was being distributed freely. I use the term cake somewhat loosely because, while there was a bridal cake, the groom’s cake was, in fact, a groom’s pie. To be exact, it was a pecan pie. It seems Chris did not waste much time falling back into his old pie habits. I guess he was not listening when the reverend spoke of forsaking excessive pies. I suppose in retrospect, we should have taken him to the House of Pies for his bachelor party, but I guess hindsight is always 20/20. Actually, it’s not always 20/20. Many times, I hear people tell me what they ’should have done’ and it is a worse idea than what they actually did. Anyhow, I think the groom’s pie issue is probably no big deal. This was just a few pecan pies, so I am sure everything will still be okay.
I managed to acquire a piece of cake; but I lost track of the pie reception area, so I did not get to partake in the pie. The cake was good. Standard butter-cream affair with heavy frosting. Dee-lish! About this time, I caught sight of Christopher finally getting a bite to eat. I caught up with him and sat down for a chat. He was glad to finally get to eat something. At weddings, it always seems like those exerting the most energy, the newlyweds, are the last to be allowed to eat. Mr. Potter and Robert Mayfield sat down at the table with us and we all talked for a while longer. The conversation turned to the honey moon. Chris and Kim were headed to the Napa Valley in California to tour the vineards and to take in the beautiful scenery. There was a good discussion about how great Napa is, how the wineries are fantastic, and how much fun the trip should be. By the end of the conversation, I was not sure if we were really talking about wine anymore.
I took my leave to walk about a little more. I talked to various people. I spoke with Mr. and Mrs. Broiles and complimented Mr. Broiles on his speech and thanked him for the honor of attending their daughter’s wedding. I was not sure how much longer things were going to last, but I actually needed to go because I had some unfinished job work at home and we were on a short deadline. I talked to Mark about leaving and he needed to leave soon, as well. I began to make the rounds of bidding all farewell when Gran told me that newlywed exit time was fast approaching. It was decided I would stay until after this event took place. Ultra-important work paper could wait.
I milled about while as the wedding began to wind down. Finally, those of us from the St. Francis/Episcopal/A&M crowd made our way outside to set up the grand finale exit pyrotechnic display. It is a little known fact that Lance Lancington descends from a long line of pyrotechnicians. Even though Lance has chosen the banking lifestyle, he still knows many of the family secrets. We had about $400 worth of custom made fireworks. We spent a good twenty minutes setting the fireworks up in hidden locations. Wilson assigned Robert the task of staying in Wilson’s car to hit play on the CD player so that it would blast the Agricultural and Mechanical Fighting Tune as Chris and Kim made their way to the exit car. I felt Robert would be able to complete this task, but Wilson felt otherwise. He berated Robert not to make mistake. Inside the black exit automobile, we placed a surprise man in the front seat to drive the car. In the back seats, the Aggies among us placed a couple of A&M stadium seats and two pink flamingos. They also put a magnetic A&M logo on the back door of the car.
So the stage was set for a spectacular exit. As we waited for the happy couple of get ready to leave, we messed around outside. I angered Wilson by telling more embarrassing stories. He challenged me to another fight, but I was so full of food that it just didn’t seem like a good idea. Lance escorted Mrs. Potter and Mrs. Graeter to the parking lot so they could witness the spectacle first hand. I took some pictures. After a while, we started to wonder where the bride and groom were. They had supposedly been getting ready to make their daring escape. Word floated out that there was some concern about our plans for their exit. Finally, the happy couple sent an emissary out. She started casually chatting with a group of us about sports and the weather. Suddenly, out of nowhere, she asked if we were planning on shooting any fireworks off as the couple exited. We were shocked. How could she have known…UNLESS there was a moll amongst us. There was no time to deal with the traitor at that moment, though. Some dissembling was required. Fortunately, that is something at which I excel. I told her that it would be impossible for us to launch fireworks, because none of us has a Class C Incendiary Device Licence. After a little more reassurance from us that we were not up to no good, she went back inside. The joke was on her, though because, Lance has a Class A licence. Still, once she left, we huddled up and decided that fireworks might not be a good idea. So, we decided to jettison that part of the plan. Since the fireworks were hidden, Lance would just come back later to get them.
Suddenly, word came from inside that the reception was going to run for a few more hours. We all started to make our way back inside. Somehow, Robert Mayfield went back in before us and had time to sit Wilson’s car keys down someplace. As we all started to go in, word came again that the bride and groom were about to make their exit. It was a trick, to throw us off balance! We all rushed out to get ready again. Robert came out and started running towards the car. All of the sudden, he realized he didn’t have Wilson’s keys. There was a collective groan. He ran inside and came back out with the keys about five yards in front of the exiting couple. He ran to Wilson’s car and managed to get the CD player up and running just as the bride and groom were exiting. Somehow, all the guests had come out during this commotion and lined the walkway to the exit car to cheer the couple as they left. Chris and Kim came out looking happy and excited. I am sure they were worn out after the day’s events. All the Aggies with us were riled by their battle song. As Kim took her place in the back seat, she was surprised by the presence of the flamingo. She laughed, though, because she likes flamingos. Chris has a deadly fear of flamingos, but the plastic variety do not bother him. With that, they couple bid farewell and went off to enjoy the wines of Napa. Congratulations to the happy couple!