Wedding Wrap Up.
It was an excellent party, although it is difficult to imagine all the Usual Suspects being in one place at the same time and it not being an excellent party.
Before the party commenced, we were pleased to see that Pastakeith (see comment to the previous post) would be presiding over the nuptial ceremony. Pastakeith is, in real life, Pastor Keith, the son-in-law of two of the Usual Suspects, the “Original Bill†and Sinister Linda. The service was, as usual, enjoyable and meaningful. Keith manages to bring things like Seinfeld episodes into the service and elegantly tie them into the seriousness of the proceedings.
He drove four hours to do the honors and only had time to stay for the cocktail hour (I didn’t check his glass), before he and his bride (Nancy with the Big Smile) had to pack their three boys into the family car for the four-hour trip back home so Keith would be able to perform his regular services at his church on Sunday. He’s a real Mensch.
After much adult beverage consumption, dancing and hell raising, the reception ended, but the party didn’t end. We headed to the nearby hotel where the wedding party and out-of-town guests were staying and where the bride’s parents (Captain Arthur and the “Good Sisterâ€) had set up a hospitality room stocked with (you guessed it) more adult beverages. We hung for just two (honest) and then headed for home. After all, we had to be in shape for the “breakfast†that was to follow in about nine hours.
The breakfast, hosted by Ken, the Bodyguard and the Deckmistress was a veritable feast, which, of course, included among a zillion things, scrambled eggs and Taylor Ham – a genuine Jersey breakfast. Not surprisingly, I was in charge of the bar. The featured drinks of the day were Bloody Marys and Mimosas. We went through Costco Quantities of V-8 (the mixer of choice for excellent Bloody Marys) and orange juice, which should give you some idea of the amount of vodka and champagne that was consumed.
After a while, out came the guitars. The groom (another Kearny Guy and the newest of the Usual Suspects) had spent a half-dozen years playing in saloons in a band based in Athens, Georgia, so pickin’ with him was a rare treat. I must say that I missed the younger half (by a few goddamned days) of the Elderly Brothers, particularly when I played Runaway. The instrumental break just wasn’t the same.
The “breakfast†broke up somewhere around 8 PM.
It was a great party.