The Power of Fading Photographs

Yesterday, my son and his wife, the newlyweds, excitedly sent all of us a picture of their first furniture purchase. It was some sort of love seat thing that was perfect for their tiny living room. In response Pam dug up an old photograph of the very first piece of furniture we had purchased as a married couple...a hideous floral patterned sleep sofa which practically screamed 1980’s. While searching for this relic among the thousands of pictures floating around in the mysterious cloud, Pam found several others from our first year of marriage. Since Patrick and Sarah are leaving this week to go on their honeymoon, my wife thought it appropriate to send them a picture taken of us when we were on our honeymoon...

This was taken with an automatic timer on her non digital camera propped up on a table across the room of our suite at the Ocean Creek Resort in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina in May of 1984. It was a lifetime ago...and strangely, feels like last week. We had no earthly idea what we were doing, no clue what wonders lurked in our future. We were broke, or would be by the time we returned from this trip and spent our way through the wedding cash. She was a first grade teacher, and I was a struggling insurance salesman. My car was a used VW Scirocco with red fake leather seats. We would return to Richmond and spend our first year of married life in a two bedroom apartment off of Hungary Springs Road.

There were no cell phones. It was three Golden Retrievers ago. We had no children. There was no Facebook, and only three channels on our 19 inch color television, four if you counted the fuzzy and inconsistent reception of the Public Television station...channel 23 WCVE. Ronald Reagan was in the White House, and the Dallas Cowboys were actually good. Apple Computer was a niche company who nobody had ever heard of, and Amazon was a river in Brazil. If either of us had randomly started giving voice commands to someone named Alexa, we would have been declared insane.

It was a much less convenient time. Information was exceedingly more difficult to come by, and if you were serious about being informed, you took the paper...both of them, The Times Dispatch in the morning, and The News Leader at night. But, oddly, I felt I understood the world better. Now, everything there is to know is at my fingertips, yet I’m more confused than ever.

But, you know what? Not everything has changed. That girl sitting next to me is still as hot and beguiling as ever. I didn’t fully understand just what I had back then. Now I do and can hardly believe it. The picture is grainy and a bit faded. I like that. It’s as if it’s holding something back from us...No, I’m not clear and precise. Allow room for mystery...

Heaven

While I have been distracted with weddings, family and friends, I’ve noticed that the world has continued on its merry way, enjoying its window seat on the Straight To Hell express train. Trump is still Trump, determined to make tariffs great again, elevating lying to dizzying new heights of acceptability, and still Tweeting like a middle schooler. Meanwhile, the face of the Democratic Party has become an increasingly deranged Maxine Waters. But Maxine’s days could be numbered since the arrival on the scene of a beautiful Marxist barmaid from the Bronx who, on the power of 16,000 votes has become the latest heart throb of practically every journalist in America. If I didn’t know better I would suspect that the Democratic Party was on a mission to insure Trump’s second term...but what do I know?

Meanwhile, in other world news...the World Cup plods on. The best soccer players in the universe continue to throw themselves violently to the ground at the slightest suggestion of physical contact with another player in spasms of what appears to be excruciating pain in hopes of securing a free penalty kick...or something. Once secured, the seemingly mortally wounded player bounces up fresh as a daisy, penalty kicks apparently possessing miracle curative powers. These past couple of sentences contain the sum total of what I know about soccer, so maybe I’ve got it all wrong. Maybe when another player comes within two inches of colliding with another player it really does cause excruciating pain because of some sort of soccer force field or something. As far as the actual games go, I’m told that there have been a bunch of upsets, teams that don’t normally advance this far have surprised everyone, chief amount them...the team from the host country...Russia. This isn’t suspicious...at all.

Two weeks from today, Pam and I will set out for the 13 hour drive to our happy place. This time it will be at a place called, I’m not even kidding,...The Chill House, on Pemaquid Lake near Damariscotta, Maine.

Kaitlin and Jon will spend two weeks with us, and Patrick and Sarah will spend the second week of their honeymoon here. Once they are gone, Pam and I will have one week to ourselves. Trump isn’t invited. Neither is Maxine Waters. None of us will be throwing ourselves onto the ground feigning injury...unless it’s possible to suddenly become violently ill from too many fluffernutters or too much lobster or ice cream, or too much time spent on floats out on the lake. The rest of you will have to contend with the madness of 2018. We’ll be in heaven.

The Wedding....Part Two

CHAPTER FIVE...The Ceremony

I sat on the front row, on the aisle. Pam and I had both just escorted our son to the front while a jazz ensemble played Zelda’s Lullaby or some other piece of video game music. When Sarah came down the aisle and everyone stood, my heart was full. Although the planning of this day had taken a toll on us, this moment was the payoff. This girl was the right girl. She was the one we had both been praying for for the better part of two decades. That realization is a feeling like no other for a parent. Our boy had found the right girl.

The minister, Jason Shelton, was a gem. He is a good friend of my son, a minister of music in the Universalist Unitarian Church, and a fellow composer, the director of a choral company that Patrick and Sarah are a part of, and a committed liberal/socialist who is fond of carrying signs and protesting stuff...which meant he felt right at home at this wedding since throughout the proceedings, a crowd of such protesters was gathering in an adjacent park! It was so nice of a thousand strangers to show up to celebrate with us. Nashvillians are super friendly! It didn’t take long for Jason to earn his meager pay. As soon as he began with the Dearly Beloved...it became evident that his microphone was one of those that only works sparingly, as in...every fifth word sparingly. If it bothered him, you would never know, since he soldiered on like a pro. Then, it was time for some very special music. Back during their courtship, Sarah had written a poem about the first time Patrick had said I Love You. Patrick had decided to set the poem to music, complete with orchestration. When he proposed, he sang her poem to her accompanied by the recording of the orchestration in the background. I know, I know...romantic kid. Anyway, a special recording of that song was to play through the high dollar sound system while Patrick and Sarah poured sand into a jar to symbolize the two becoming one thing. Only...when they pressed play...nothing but silence.

Although silence is a very lovely thing at times, this was not one of those times. As the silence ground on, the awkwardness began to build. Then Jason turns to Patrick and Sarah and says...So, you guys got any fun plans for tonight? Perfect.

They never got the sound fixed. A faulty plug was blamed. Although it was extremely disappointing and infuriating to this father of the groom and bankroller of this event, this, like everything else about this wedding, worked out perfectly in the end. The sand pouring thing was done during the reception as the song played, only this time, the picture slideshow blazed out on the walls. As my son’s voice sang Sarah’s poem I watched a picture of my Mom and Dad holding him as an infant. It was a powerful moment...

After they were pronounced husband and wife, they were supposed to march out accompanied by the theme to Star Wars. But, with no sound track, they had to settle for the thunderous applause of one hundred of their closest friends and family. The cheering kept up its intensity all the way through the last groomsman and bridesmaid. And, just like that, it was over.

CHAPTER SIX...Reflections 

Here are a few snippets of memories I have of the time after the ceremony. They are starting to become hazy and I list them here in no particular order.

Chicken and waffles were delicious and very popular.

Patrick and Sarah are huge board game players. It’s been a big part of their dating life so they wanted games to be played at their reception. Pam and I weren’t sure how this would go over since we had never seen it done at a wedding before. But, I counted ten separate games going on simultaneously during the reception. People were having a blast, including  a contingent of the White family...

Groomsman Elias Salazar, Venezuelan born trumpet player, educator, orchestra conductor, and unrepentant soccer fan had sworn us all to absolute radio silence about the progress of the two World Cup games going on during the wedding. He was afraid someone was going to leak the results, robbing him of his plans to watch the recorded games later while drinking beer in his pajamas, apparently his World Cup tradition. Every time I walked up to him during the reception he practically covered his ears as a precaution!

Another hero of the weekend was bridesmaid Katie Kelly. When she arrived at the bridesmaid luncheon straight from the airport, Pam noticed immediately that Sarah instantly relaxed. Here was a ball of positive energy and enthusiasm who changed whatever room she entered for the better. During the reception and afterwards during the cleanup, Pam and I both noticed her take charge style. At one point Pam heard her giving out some rather pointed orders to some of the staff at Ruby. When Katie noticed that Pam was watching, she deadpanned, I’m being extra so Sarah doesn’t have to be! 

Andy Upchurch, father of the bride took this picture...

My new daughter...

Us, back at the hotel after it was all over.

After we gathered everything up that needed saving, we loaded it all up and delivered it to Patrick and Sarah’s already cramped apartment. Sarah said...We can finally hang this!!

There’s no turning back now...there’s a D on their door!

So, that’s about it. There’s more I could say, more stories I could tell. But, hopefully you have an idea of how how the weekend went. In short, it was a wonderful celebration of everything all of us hold dear in this world...love, family, and lifelong friends.

The Wedding.....Part One

Five days have passed. I am no longer exhausted. Enough time has passed to gain perspective but not too much time that I’ve forgotten anything, so I guess it’s time for a wedding blog.

The wedding of Patrick Dunnevant and Sarah Upchurch was a combination of loveliness and catastrophe...heartwarming beauty and three ring circus. There were times where I wondered what could possibly go wrong next, but other times when I was so proud of them both I could hardly stand it. To tell the story of this crazy yet glorious weekend, I will have to break it down into chapters, which means that this blog might be rather long. But bear with me...I need to get all of it down. One day I will read this to their children who will not believe a word of it.

CHAPTER ONE.....SAM

The guy on the left is Sam Isaacs. He has been Patrick’s friend since they were five. We love Sam primarily because he’s always been a mess and good for a hilarious story or two. On this weekend, of course, he didn’t disappoint. His Thursday flight from Richmond on Allegiant Airlines was unceremoniously cancelled. No other flights could be had so Sam decides to just rent a car and drive through the night. There was a credit card foul up that made that a fiasco and delayed their departure until 10 pm. Then, ten minutes after leaving the airport in their rental car, the check engine light comes on!! Of course it did! Sam missed the bachelor party, but rolled in just in time for the rehearsal dinner. In route, his delightful fiancée had to plead with their hotel to re-book their reservation which they had mistakenly cancelled. All in a day’s work.

CHAPTER TWO...Replacement Bridesmaid

One of the life lessons I have learned from this weekend is the importance of family and friends. In particular, those special people who can be depended on in the clutch. At every turn, when something had gone terribly wrong, some incredible friend would step up and save the day. These people were super heros to us...all weekend. One of them was this beautiful girl standing next to the stunning bride...

So, one of Sarah’s bridesmaids informed her...18 hours before the wedding...that she was ill and would be unable to make it to the wedding. (No, I am not making this up.) This news was received right before the big visit to the nail salon for the prenuptial manicures. A debate began. Should she ask another friend? Should she just go with one less bridesmaid? Would the pictures look unbalanced? Would whichever friend she asked feel slighted that she was only being asked to be a backup? In other words, this was the type of situation that no bride should be dealing with 18 hours before her wedding. Then, the best man, Matt Adrian’s girlfriend, Yoanna, who Patrick had introduced to Matt a couple years 
ago, stepped up. I’ll be your bridesmaid! Let’s get her dress from her and take it up a little. It will work perfectly! And just like that, Sarah now had a replacement bridesmaid, one who truly loved her in word and deed. I will never forget the heartfelt speech she gave at the rehearsal dinner. Matt...don’t let this one get away!


CHAPTER THREE...The Leaning Arbor of Ruby

Sarah’s father, Andy, had designed and constructed an arbor for the occasion, which had to be assembled on site at 7 AM, day of, after which the florist would decorate it with flowers and greenery. However, when we arrived at 9:00 am, the arbor was being propped up at its base with a ten pound bag of cat litter. Now, I’m not known as someone who is necessarily in tune with wedding stylistics, but even I knew that a bag of cat litter didn’t match the color scheme of this event! The trouble was that without the offending bag of litter, the arbor would list badly starboard. Upon seeing this, the first rumblings of panic arrived in my stomach. Pam calmly got on her phone and did the only thing any of us know to do when something like this happens...call Ron Roop. My brother in law is one of those guys who always seems to know how to fix stuff. He always just happens to be carrying a slide rule and adjustable wrench around in his pocket when you need one. Although he was about to step into the shower when he got Pam’s call, five minutes later, there he was, bungee chords and fishing line in hand, working his miracles...

CHAPTER FOUR... “I’ll do anything for you”

Lots of people say these words. Only a special few actually mean them. Becky Baldwin is one of those people. Becky and Pam have been close friends for thirty years or more. Back in the day at Grove, people would get them mixed up, they looked and acted so much alike. Of course, Becky and her daughter Kelly, a life long friend of Patrick, made the trip from Richmond. The two of them wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Anyway, during the chaos of the wedding day, it was discovered after the service that Patrick had left something very valuable at his apartment that morning...the flash drive that contained the slideshow of pictures that was to play during the reception! When this news was relayed to my wife, Becky was standing there with her and immediately said, “Patrick, give me the keys to your place. Kelly and I will go get it!” Pam protested...”Becky, it’s all the way across town! You don’t know your way around this crazy city, and you will miss the reception!” Becky smiled and said...”Pam, I would do anything for you. Now, you leave this to us!” With that, the two of them screeched out of the parking lot and disappeared....

Yeah...that’s them, recording their heroics with a selfie at the scene. They made it back with the flash drive in record time, saving the day. 

TO BE CONTINUED........

Pictures From Nashville

Thought maybe my readers would like to see some photographs of some of the key places and players involved in this weekend’s festivities...

Here’s a picture of the Venue...

Had a chance to tour our caterer’s facility yesterday. Was particularly impressed with their kitchen...

The staff certainly seemed like a cheerful bunch...

Oh...and here’s a shot of the nice Air B&B where we’re staying...

Time For Some Fun

Made the 9 hour, 600 mile, rain-soaked road trip to Nashville, then met the happy couple over at Patrick’s apartment where the fair Sarah had cooked us a delicious dinner. Most of the evening was spent looking over the mounds of wedding gifts stacked against every available wall...these kids need a bigger place!! Then Sarah and Pam started geeking out with their dueling organizational spreadsheets like two accountants pouring over payroll at the end of the month. Between the two of them, this wedding has been planned out to within an inch of its life. There are looses ends left to tie down, a couple of logistical odds and ends to button up, but things look to be falling into place quite nicely. Finally, it would appear that the fun is about to begin. For example...

Aside from an eleven o’clock meeting at the Venue this morning to iron out a couple of things, today is a free day. Maybe a lunch trip to Hattie B’s might be in the offing? Paula, Ron and Ryan will roll in this afternoon, so maybe dinner out at some appropriately Nashvillian establishment. I will get a grueling workout in at some point today so I will still be able to fit into my suit Saturday morning!

Tomorrow will be so much fun! While the ladies are all out getting their nails done, or some such thing, a large herd of wedding related guys will be gathering for brunch at this very cool place...

Yes...the Pfunky Griddle is a Nashville institution. I first ate here back in Patrick’s undergrad days and fell in love with the place. It’s a breakfast joint inside what used to be someone’s rambling and cramped rancher. Now it’s a rambling and cramped restaurant. Each table features a huge Griddle in the middle of the table upon which customers are expected to cook their own breakfast. This is a great concept...lure people into your business, take their money, and make them do the work, while eliminating most customer complaints...Customer: This pancake is undercooked!! Waiter: Try harder! 

Then, this roving band of wedding guys will head over to this very cool place...

This is Topgolf, an upscale, supercharged driving range/bar which also serves pub-grub. The golf balls are equipped with microchips that immediately inform you, in unsparing detail,  just how horrible a shot you hit! Looks like a blast. The best part is the fact that each hitting bay is climate controlled...the two most wonderful words in the English language for anyone who lives south of the Mason Dixon Line after May 1st.

Then we will retreat back to the hotel, freshen up, and head over to the Loveless Cafe for the rehearsal dinner. 

All in all, a super cool 48 hours.

Lucky Me

This boy...

Isn’t really a boy anymore...

But, he’s still my son...

Yes, there can be no doubt about that...

And this weekend he’s getting married...

Lucky me.