Weekend Wedding
Saturday I got up early and drove down to Plainville MA for my friends Joe and Maria's wedding.
There's the lovely couple.
It was a nice bike ride despite the gray skies that loomed. The rain didn't hit us at all that day thankfully. The wedding was in Joe's parent's backyard. It was a nice scene in the New England autumn. Flowers were still in their beds and leaves falling every so often as if someone was standing just "off camera" with a fan and a handful of leaves.
The tree that Joe and Maria were married in front of started growing the day Joe was born back in 1980, according to Joe's mom. His entire family are a beautifully poetic bunch of people and I was glad to have been invited.
They called me earlier in the week and asked me to play the Recession Wedding March on guitar after the kiss.
After they were pronounced man and wife their friend Phil, who became a minister for a day so he could marry them, gave me a nod and I fired up the Les Paul and started it up as bride, groom, bridesmaids and groomsmen made their way back down the aisle... straight to the keg.
I ended up staying there that night on an old futon mattress, passing out fairly early considering we had drained four kegs and who knows how much liquor.
The next morning everyone woke up and dusted themselves off as most of the wedding guests had to fly back out to the West Coast, including the newly weds who live in Santa Cruz.
I rode home, played with some baby squirrels and then went to the infuriating Pats game.
I must say I don't really dig the idea of marriage, but I love me a good drunken wedding.
There's the lovely couple.
It was a nice bike ride despite the gray skies that loomed. The rain didn't hit us at all that day thankfully. The wedding was in Joe's parent's backyard. It was a nice scene in the New England autumn. Flowers were still in their beds and leaves falling every so often as if someone was standing just "off camera" with a fan and a handful of leaves.
The tree that Joe and Maria were married in front of started growing the day Joe was born back in 1980, according to Joe's mom. His entire family are a beautifully poetic bunch of people and I was glad to have been invited.
They called me earlier in the week and asked me to play the Recession Wedding March on guitar after the kiss.
After they were pronounced man and wife their friend Phil, who became a minister for a day so he could marry them, gave me a nod and I fired up the Les Paul and started it up as bride, groom, bridesmaids and groomsmen made their way back down the aisle... straight to the keg.
I ended up staying there that night on an old futon mattress, passing out fairly early considering we had drained four kegs and who knows how much liquor.
The next morning everyone woke up and dusted themselves off as most of the wedding guests had to fly back out to the West Coast, including the newly weds who live in Santa Cruz.
I rode home, played with some baby squirrels and then went to the infuriating Pats game.
I must say I don't really dig the idea of marriage, but I love me a good drunken wedding.
posted by Hooker at 10:47 AM
4 Comments:
Lol... saw the pics of you on Jenny's site with the squirrels... too cute. I'd get one as a pet where it not for the fact that I think my German Shepherd would think it's a chewtoy.
our dog wanted one bad. we held her back and you could've heard her panting a block away.
What's funny is that whenever I feed a rat (live) to my snake, the dog watches and it's hard to tell if she's feeling sorry for the little guy or if she'd like to get her teeth on it herself.
Amen to the drunken wedding.
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