The beach beerfest
People make some strange choices in their lives, these choices that seem natural to the chooser often seem a little strange to the rest of the world - this is what makes the chooser special. Our choices in life make us an individual. As most good Americans will tell you, and sometimes enforce upon you, choice makes us free and good. Jesus would want us to choose. Some people who enjoy X-treme sports might like to choose to be married during a skydive, or maybe whilst bungee jumping. Some scuba lovers might choose to be wed underwater amongst tropical fish and deep sea wrecks. Then there are some people from the Northwest of America (where it rains a lot) who choose to have their whole wedding outside on a remote beach on a tiny island in the Puget Sound, in the cold, knowing it will probably rain on all their family and guests - potentially making the whole fiasco something disastrous to write about.
It rained most of last week and it rained whilst the Coug’ and I were making our way to find Alex in Bellingham on Saturday morning. It was raining while I walked around a parking lot looking for Alex - he said he would be somewhere near a building that he could not remember the name of. Thinking back, I have no idea how I eventually found Al but I did. It rained most of the way from Bellingham to Anacortes and it rained while I sat in Adrift eating some chowder of some kind.
I personally would not have chosen to have a wedding outside during September in this part of the world, although there is year round stunning scenery there is a very large chance it will rain. But like I said before, our unique choices in life make us individuals - being an individual and making choices is what America is about and God loves this.
So on Saturday 18th September 2004 at about 1:30pm the rain stopped. At about 4pm me and my crew rocked on down the Guemes Island Resort wrapped up in our smartest but warmest island wear. My choice of wedding wear consisted of a brown western shirt borrowed from the closet of Jesse (not Jessica), brown Levis corduroys (quite smart I thought) and a brown jacket from the closet of Jessica (not Jesse). This was my choice and it is what made me special and good. Actually, to be fair, Jessica played a large part in selecting my wedding wear - I had come vastly unprepared for such an occasion, but it was my choice not to wear the black leather biker jacket that she picked out for me.
Down at the resort we quickly found the nearest beers and had a quick tin, then it was everyone to the seating facing the beach and the islands in the Puget Sound. Lots of people who were much better dressed than I were shivering in their more delicate and smarter attire - I was happily snug in my relatively scruffy but multi-layered brown getup.
The ceremony was excellent - Cory played “Here Comes the Bride” on his squeeze box, brief but beautiful words were exchanged and before we knew it a kiss was shared and the food bit began. As always at a wedding booze and good food, like the bride and groom, go hand in hand. The beer was from a keg and the wine was a-plenty. I don’t remember much of the night, it got late, we retired to sit around the fire - cold but happy. I gave a speech to the dwindling crowd that stayed up late enough to share whisky and cigars, I can’t remember exactly what the speech was about but I was told that it was pretty good all things considered. The wedding was great, I am glad that the choice to sit outside and brave the elements was made. I am glad that most of the time it was too dark or people were too polite to comment on my brown clothes. When I sat in the Coug’ you would only see my pink face - the rest of me blended into the brown velour.
Speaking of the vehicle that was described in the Seattle PI’s depressing astrology section as “a glittering bauble that will quickly become bad taste” - I bought 4 new tyres for it, they smoothed the ride out a little but were mainly a waste of money. Tomorrow I am having the transmission looked at, I really do not know why I trusted the tyre people, they just want to sell tyres. On a lighter note I am pretty sure that the problem with the transmission is not too severe - I am predicting it is the same sort of problem the van had last year, a seized U-joint or some kind of problem in the power train that requires some inexpensive lubrication. When it is fixed, and it will be fixed, I shall save up some money for gas and go out on an adventure - I have an idea to travel as far North as possible in this country, a local at the wedding told me it could take days and days, it is further than going coast to coast. The Cougar could easily guzzle through $1000 of gas, I need to find a companion to come with me on what I am now calling “The Great Northern Expedition”.
On that note I shall thank you once again for taking the time to read and leave you with this parting observation: Road works in Vancouver are a lethal disorganised mess and it is incredible that the JCB did not fall down the trench when it raced down Seymour St. whilst the driver yelled at his buddy about donuts or something.
September 21st, 2004
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