About that wedding...

The Time: September 25, 2008
The Place: On the road in central eastern Virginia

Believe it or not it was a dark and stormy night as I drove the starship (the family CR-V) up I-95 trying to find our way to some place called Sandbridge Beach, Virginia for my brother-in-law's wedding. Past military training for me has that when driving the guy or gal riding in the front passenger seat not only is the navigator but carries the job of making sure the driver, that was me, stays alert. Much to my dissatisfaction as I was driving I would repeatedly find Dragonwife reading some culinary magazine using a small book light. Normally keeping my wife preoccupied on long trips is a good thing but since this area was terra incognito for me I would have greatly appreciated her attention due to the severe rain, blasting winds, and heavy traffic I was driving through was seriously freaking me out. Instead I was periodically getting shown glossy pictures of various entrees that strangely reminded me of what the occupants of automobiles looked like in the aftermath of terrible car crashes. At least the kids were quiet with my son, Darth Spoilboy, and daughter, Miss Wiggles, being entertained. The former with his iPod and the latter watching a "Bratzs" movie on the portable DVD player. This was a good thing since I started to see in the rain this looming concrete octopus of several highway overpasses stacked on top of each over with the arms being roads moving off if different directions. In a rush Dragonwife dropped the magazine she was reading and began trying to tell me which of the many series of exits I would soon have to take. I in turn was careening across lanes while praying that we all didn't end up a sticky paste on the wet road because my brother-in-law had to be married in some out of the way romantic place. The MapQuest directions were saying something on the order of five separate exits all less than a mile apart. As usual for the Beach Bum/Dragonwife navigation team we missed one of the exits which I thought would soon have us replaying the old Bugs Bunny cartoon of him tunneling through the ground on a trip, coming up to the surface realizing he was very off course, in some sort of cartoon adventure, and that he should have taken a left turn at Abuquerque. At this point we tried to loop back around but due to rain, unfamiliar territory, and general grumpiness of both pilot and navigator we ended up on some county road which at least had the benefit of being out of traffic. Now I know guys are suppose to be the ones that don't want to ask for directions but I did stopping at several convenience stores hoping that someone would actually know where their store was in relation to the rest of the world. After hitting one in which the store clerk actually admitted to being a local and knowing something about the area we wandered around until we figured he was back at the store snickering about the tourists he sent on a wild goose chase. But since God looks after children and fools we came to a stop at an intersection and accidentally noticed a landmark that matched one on the poorly printed map we got from MapQuest. Back on track we made our way finally to the Sandbridge Beach area stopping at a fantastic seaside restaurant. It was still raining heavily as we tried to enter the restaurant with the hostess telling us that the area all the way toward Virginia Beach was experiencing a tropical storm that suddenly formed that day.

The restaurant was awesome, it was locally owned and operated and not some crappy national chain with mass produced pop culture stuff hanging from every space inside. Surfboards of various styles and lengths hug from the walls, a sign on the door assured us the seafood was locally caught, and the waitress was wearing a tight t-shirt. I don't know who was happier, Darth Spoilboy or myself, since he actually removed his iPod and talked to the young lady serving us along with openly staring at her nicely shaped assets. Anyone who reads me even a little will easily understand I was doing the same thing.

While our travels had been hard the delay its caused was beginning to be welcomed since had we arrive earlier we would have been drawn into Dragonwife's sister cooking dinner for the entire clan. Past history has Dragonwife's sister, Lady Trump, being large and in charge of the kitchen and freely drafting anyone into her service. Past history in such events have Dragonwife and me doing kitchen cleanup with Dragonwife going AWOL soon into the assignment. She would explain that her family doesn't get together all that often and she wanted some time to catch up with them. But since we ended up so late getting in having to stop for dinner we arrived at the house with dinner and cleanup done. I never asked who got saddled with cleanup but several disgruntled looks from the extended family sitting in the living room gave me a undue satisfaction and a general idea of who it was as we came in.

The rental house we were in for the weekend was beyond huge bordering on enormous. It has TWELVE bedrooms with four of them having two sets of bunk beds. Two fully furnished living rooms on the second and third floors, five bathrooms, and two decks again on the second and third floors with a deck area on ground level around the small swimming pool. Since the house was on stilts beside the pool area was a relatively sheltered space for parties that was going to be put to use Friday night. Now some might think we would have most in not the entire Dragonwife clan staying in such a place but it was only my immediate family, Dragonwife's parents, and Dragonwife's sister Lady Trump and her daughter. Mrs. Sunshine, my mother-in-law had some of her family (about six people) in another rental. Warren Beatty Sunshine, my brother-in-law had one for him and his fiancee. His fiancee, the soon to be Beautiful Gorgeous-Sunshine had her family in another house nearby as well. Mr. Sunshine, my father-in-law, couldn't get any of his people to break away from their jobs in Hell or from causing world-wide chaos but had they came I'm sure they would rented another beach house as well. All told I'm sure the wedding was a boost to the local economy.





Early Friday morning Wiggles came and got me out of bed wanting to walk on the beach and watch the sun rise. Since I had about nothing to say in the matter as far as my daughter was concerned I did whatever good dad did in such situations. I put on my shoes and went walking on the cold beach. After everyone finally went to bed the night before leaving the house quiet I swear I could feel the house swaying in the wind and hear more than the usual noise of creaks and groans. The truth to the matter was that as I strolled the beach with my daughter I started talking with another couple also walking around who were old time locals to the area near Sandbridge Beach. What they told me was that when the rental houses were built certain corners were cut in their construction. In a conspiratorial tone I was told that since the rental houses were never built to be family homes the roof trusses and rafters along with the floor joists were spaced farther apart to lessen construction costs. The husband of the couple also floated the idea that if a hurricane ever tore the place up he figured the rental agencies would clean up nicely having the federal government help pay for rebuilding the area . Of course as our conversation moved on to different subjects this couple began expressing their belief in UFO's and how Christ was going to return to Earth in one.




After our walk Wiggles and I returned to the house for breakfast. Lady Trump was once again cooking which brought me a sudden desire to go and find a McDonald's but once I found out it was simply scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes and not some sort of exotic breakfast recipe like the cauliflower spaghetti aglio olio, grilled lamb shoulder chop or salmon mango bango she made for breakfast at my house on several of her past Christmas visits. All I'm sure are fine meals for the most discriminating connoisseur but just don't figure in my menu.

Of course everyone should know Miss Wiggles in the picture and the other pretty little girl is Lady Trump's daughter the delightful Miss Giggles. Giggles gave me a new nickname on this visit and as far as she is concerned I'm not, or ever have been Uncle Beach, I am "Big Tummy." Sadly you can't fight the truth.

I figured I would get saddled with clean up since I was able to avoid it the night before but Darth Spoilboy, never a morning person, really ticked off Dragonwife that morning and ended up having kitchen cleanup much to my satisfaction.


As Friday progressed the various actors and actress in this drama began getting ready for the party that would take place that evening on the pool deck and the space under the beach house we were staying at. One time I described my in-laws as structured, controlled, and deliberate people taking nothing for granted or doing anything without a plan. The one thing I left out was that in such a situation as a wedding my in-laws each want to have the others to follow their plan.

As tables were erected, sound systems installed and checked, and the pool areas cleaned everything was going okay. When it came time for decorating Dragonwife, Warren Beatty Sunshine, Lady Trump, and Mrs. Sunshine each had their own ideas of what to be done. Mrs. Sunshine started out decorating the party area with beach/jungle style garland that looked like jungle vines, seashells and starfish made out of tissue paper hanging from the garland, admittedly obtrusive looking fake palm trees, and my favorite colorful parrots also made out of tissue paper. For my taste I thought it was perfectly fitting for a wedding in which the sounds of the ocean surf was clearly heard, plus I admit I thought it was cool stuff. Once Lady Trump, Dragonwife, Warren, and Beautiful Gorgeous' uncle arrived on the scene a shriek of such decorative distaste erupted I thought someone had died. They each sprung into action ripping all the stuff down giving Mrs. Sunshine such a case of the "vapors" that a normally very socially accepting lady couldn't help but point out in a very sarcastic way that she admitted she was out of her league in decorating since Beautiful Gorgeous' uncle was not only a professional designer but gay. In short, my mother-in-law was rather crabby the rest of the night and beyond which is the reason behind the picture I chose for this segment.



My initial concern on this whole matter was how Miss Wiggles would act at a very structured event on a beach in which her usual behavior at such a place was to run absolutely wild. Happily, her behavior was excellent except for the fact that the one duty she and Miss Giggles were assigned was to hand out small sea shells to all the beautiful people assembled so they in turn could drop them in some seriously expensive large crystal vase signifying the joining of two people and unity of marriage or some other symbolic verbal crap that I tuned out after about a minute wishing there was a tiki bar somewhere nearby. While the very long winded pastor rambled on who was in turned replaced by Warren and Beautiful Gorgeous who wrote long poetic vows for each other Wiggles and Giggles at some point decided to bury all the shells they had in their baskets. About ten minutes away from having the girls hand out the shells Dragonwife and Lady Trump had to quickly dig up or find more so the girls could hand them out. At this point I tried to slip away but my wife caught me (Spoilboy snitched) and dragged me back by the ear. Yes, Wiggles is annoyed in this picture because she was blowing bubbles with her bubble gum during the vows and had just had it taken away.





A small sampling of the "beautiful people" at the wedding right before the ceremony started which was done Saturday afternoon. I could point out many of the people I have written about but to prevent my life from becoming endangered I will leave it to y'alls imagination which person goes with the names I have created.













After the ceremony was over my father-in-law wanted to quickly retreat back to the house so he could watch some golfing tournament but Mrs. Sunshine, still irked about her choice in decorating being rejected from the day before, was not in the mood and kept his leash very short.




















The newly married couple Warren Beatty Sunshine and Beautiful Gorgeous-Sunshine. I wish them all the best for a happy future. After the ceremony both rushed off and reappeared thirty minutes later having changed clothes with an airy rosy glow emanating from Beautiful Gorgeous and a telling shit eating smile coming from Warren. At that point I was at the beer table draining a third or fourth glass from the keg hearing some of the older guys making snarky comments about the couple "sealing the deal". I don't know whether Warren heard this stuff, I actually doubt it, but he yelled something out about never needing Viagra which shut several of the older farts up very quickly.

All told, I still hold to my belief that when the urge to marry comes up between two people regardless of any factor both should go lay down, take a nap and let the urge pass like bad gas.

Going to a wedding....seriously.

Time has finally come to load up the family in the starship and make our way to my brother-in-law's wedding. Dragonwife is still having doubts whether her brother's fiancée will actually go through with it and not run off screaming into the night. But be that as it may since it will be on the beach we are still going no matter what, a bad rainy day at the beach (even amongst in-laws) sure as Hell beats a sunny day hanging around the house. We will be at some place in Virginia called Sandbridge. If by chance anyone is close by come on down and look for the tall goofy guy wearing the Buffett ”Air Margaritaville" hat and crash the parties. For an explanation of what is about to happen see this post about Miss Wiggles.

On a different note I’ve been having some technical difficulties with my internet connection which has literally kicked me off as I was trying to read posts or make comments. It has gotten to the point that the last couple nights I spent more time waiting for it to reconnect than actually participating on other blogs. Called technical support and they wanted me to burn some incense, dance the hokey-pokey naked, and sacrifice a chicken to the server and mainframe spirits, but didn’t have time to do all that even though I do happen to blog naked. What can I say? Its keeps Darth Spoilboy from bringing friends up to the family room and playing that damn "Guitar Hero". But as far as appeasing techincal support, the incense we had smelled like poop and I didn’t have time to get an actual live chicken. So, when we return late Sunday I’ll have to try it again. Have a good weekend and once again if anyone is in Sandbridge find the goofy tall guy and say hi.

Labor and Delivery soap opera

A whole host of alligators have crawled out of the swamps these last couple of days making for some very tiresome days at both work and home. So, I’ve been in something of a mental and physical funk that I’ve had a devil of a time shaking off. After some really hectic days at work that just never seemed would end I’ve sat down at home several times over the last week to try and write something only to have another crisis erupt pulling me away from my place and leaving too tired, frustrated, or both to write anything coherent. However, today at work a strange, maybe bizarre circumstance developed that was at least for me was very memorable.

Comedians of many different stripes have used the gimmick of a very upset and pregnant woman bringing down verbal hellfire and brimstone on her poor husband as she pushes something the size of a small watermelon through a much, much smaller opening. The hypothetical husband usually has to just smile and be supportive of his suffering wife no matter what insults or family secrets his wife exposes to those around them in the delivery room. It’s just that hospital security usually doesn’t have to make an appearance.

I normally work on sterilizers, surgical tables and lights along with pinch hitting on other equipment. So today when I was asked to help one of my co-workers repair one of the high-tech hospital beds that almost does everything including allowing the patient to manage their stock portfolio I was glad to help. My co-worker Robert and I entered the delivery room early this morning with the expectant mom in the malfunctioning bed, the expectant dad sitting next to her, and his mom and dad sitting on the couch in the room. All concerned at that moment were happy smiles waiting for the baby who according to the doctors was rushing to greet the world. It was still the very early stages of the birth and the bed the mom was laying decided not to obey any commands from the hand controller. At some point the bed was going to have to be raised and stirrups installed so the mom and baby could be more easily managed so the bed had to be working correctly. The nifty thing about the bed was that it was so high-tech that a little LCD screen at the foot was actually telling us what was wrong so even a monkey could repair the thing. Robert and I chatted with the family as he and I removed a few panels, fished around for the proper connector, then reconnected it to the proper circuit board and tested the bed. I found then basically country folks since the biggest topic of discussion involved the approaching deer hunting season and how the expectant dad and grandfather would still be in the deer stand that first day even with a new baby back home. The soon-to-be grandmother was all grins through this segment of the conversation but I did notice a sour look on the new mom laying in the bed. After the bed was fixed Robert and I retreated out of the room and went our separate ways.

Several hours later in the day I returned to the Labor and Delivery department to perform some preventive maintenance checks on the surgical lights in the room right next to the one Robert and I had repaired the bed in. The intervening hours had brought a huge difference in the family situation that had existed that morning. At first I noticed that several other family members had arrived waiting in the small waiting room nearby. When I entered the room next door to do my checks I could hear the screams of the expectant mother and figured she must have either forgone the epidural or had the misfortune to have it wear off too soon. She was calling the expectant dad every name in the book along with declaring that he would never ever touch her again. I admit that I cringed when I heard her tell what had to be the doctor and nurse in the room that her husband’s penis was so small that she didn’t even have a good time getting pregnant in the first place. After a few minutes the expectant mom became quiet and I figured she was between contractions but I continued to hear voices although I was generally unable to make out what was being said. I hurried as quickly as possible to finish what I needed to do knowing that when the next wave struck the expectant mom was sure to fare up as well.

Just as I was collecting my stuff I could hear the next wave of contractions begin as the mom began to scream. The expectant mom once again started tearing into her husband and while I left the room and entered the hallway I was prevented from leaving by another nurse who stopped me and wanted to wait at the nurse’s station as she went to retrieve a part she wanted me to order for her. The nurse’s station was just a few feet away from both the room I was in and the room with the highly upset mom so I was still getting an earful of what was going on.
The other members of the family including what I would soon learn were the expectant dad’s brother and sister-in-law and the expectant mom’s father were in the small waiting area along with the expectant dad’s parents who had never left. As I waited at the nurse’s station trying to ignore all the commotion along with the other nurses who seemed more amused over what was going on the sister-in-law jumped up saying she would stick her head in the room to try and help. She had not gone two feet in the room when the laboring mom exploded asking who the hell asked her to come inside. I heard the sister-in-law say something to the effect that she just wanted to see if she could relieve the abused dad. While I will not swear what I heard next was an exact quote, it’s damn close.

“Help me?” the laboring mom screamed. “Your son of a bitch husband may actually be the one who put me in this position.”

It was then that all the nurses at the station jumped up as one and rushed for the waiting area and the delivery room. One had the presence of mind to yell further down the hall for a nearby security officer as I made a hasty retreat out of the area. I noticed the commotion increased in volume enough for me to hear small bits as the big automatic doors of the department closed behind me. Personally I had heard enough of that soap opera.

Miss Wiggles is going to a wedding

All concerned have been duly warned, I will accept no responsibility for what happens but it will most certainly be funny.

There are times that, as the old saying goes, I feel like some little old mushroom being kept in the dark and fed poop with respect to the lives of those around me. Whether my mushroom-ness is an unconscious act on my part to avoid a whole spectrum of assorted minutia I can do without or a deliberate act on the part of others to avoid bringing the redneck Neanderthal out in public is something for debate. But even then at some point news eventually filters down to me bringing me into the light, at least momentarily. Such an event happened this week while I was over armpit deep in fighting various work related alligators that have a habit of springing forth at the worst times. Dragonwife called me at work to report that her youngest brother who I will call descriptively "Warren Beatty" was finally tagged a few weeks ago , that is he asked his long suffering and totally fantastic girlfriend to marry him, and that now a date in which he will be bagged has been set. She went on to tell me that the happy couple is going to have a small wedding on some secluded Virginia beach mainly attended by family and "just a few friends".

While the only thing I try to avoid more than a wedding is a funeral but when informed of the wedding's ocean side location I quickly decided that in this case I could make an exception. I religiously follow the rule that a bad day at the beach always is better than a good day at work or one stuck at home. Even when that day at the beach forces me into what I am sure will be some sort of formal attire and having to deal with people I don't know and all sorts of social rules that might as well be high level quantum physics to me. After returning home from work free of my concerns there and my nature being what it is I began trying to figure out an angle that could get me out of the formal ceremonies allowing me to more readily enjoy my usual beach practices. It was then that my daughter, Miss Wiggles, came running into the living room from the backyard holding a brother, or at least a distant cousin, to the Geico gecko screaming that the little guy was hungry and that he needed a honey bun. Various ideas about how to avoid the wedding ceremonies flew through my head as I tried to talk Miss Wiggles into releasing the gecko even as the little guy's eyes were beseeching me to get him away from what I'm sure he thought of as the cute terror holding his life in her hands. It didn't take too long for me to realize that the best plan to accomplish what I wanted involved my little girl standing right in front of me. After some serious negotiating the gecko was returned to the backyard with a small piece of honey bun and my daughter in turn received a tall glass of chocolate milk to go with the rest of the honey bun. I then called my mother-in-law to sacrifice myself for the sake of an uninterrupted wedding.

One thing you have to understand about my in-laws is that each and every one of them are a very structured, controlled, and deliberate person. I do not offer this as a criticism, although they would certainly differ, but just an observation of how their family works. My family is almost completely spontaneous with most plans of any nature not surviving contact with the morning light. They in turn just about plan everything to a microscopic detail at times strangling the life and fun out of what they wish to do. Being honest here but both the spontaneous and the structured ways of doing things have their benefits and drawbacks. Many times my family have meant to do one thing with a last minute minor change in plan ruining just about everything else. On the other hand going on vacation with my wife at times can feel like some timed road march I use to have in the army with her rushing us from one location to another to beat the crowd or make some parade. Holidays like Christmas with my in-laws also are a structured affair with each event like opening presents timed down to the second and Christmas dinner being thrown into a nuclear meltdown panic as someone realizes that a vital ingredient for some gourmet dish is missing. My family in turn would just throw out the failed dish and open a can of Spam. But all things being equal my in-law's desire to have everything perfect with every person in their place and a place for every person often runs slap into the face of reality.

When Mrs. Sunshine, my mother-in-law, answered her phone I began feeling her out about the wedding asking her if Miss Wiggles was going to have any duty in the ceremonies. She said no, and then I asked her what the general idea of the wedding was going to be like. While it is planned to be a simple affair the couple have each written special vows that will be performed with several pieces of music being played that are important to both. As she stayed true to her family's structured nature going into every tiny detail of what was planned I struggled to avoid its mind numbing effects as I was told the various color schemes and flowers that were going to be used along with where and how they would be placed on the beach as water from the light surf would lap over the young couple's feet as they speak their vows. Once she was finished and I took several hits from the beer I had opened about eleven to twelve minutes into her description I asked her if it would be best for Miss Wiggles and myself to hang back at some other location (I was thinking a Tiki bar with a drop dead gorgeous female bartender) to avoid any undue outbursts that might derail the event. Mrs. Sunshine was completely flabbergasted that I would even suggest such a thing saying that all the plans, while not having the children in the ceremonies, none the less required the children to be present. I took a deep breath and opened another beer as I told my mother-in-law that in all the trips to the beach I make with the kids it is habit to let them in general, and Miss Wiggles in particular, to run absolutely wild to burn off as much energy as they can. I also reminded her about how at our last visit to their house we all went to Shoney's for a quick dinner and had to drag Wiggles off the salad bar after she slipped away from Dragonwife and crawled up on it to get more macaroni and cheese after we all said she couldn't have any until she ate her peas. Mrs. Sunshine, in her best Southern accent, said that her granddaughter had certainly outgrown such behavior by now. I almost told her she needed to ask a certain terrified gecko about that presumption but thought against it.

Sometime later Dragonwife came storming up the stairs into the computer room wanting to know why I was doing my best to avoid her brother's wedding, yes her mother called back at some point. While our relationship is light-years from perfect, hell it's light-years from normal, she and her mother know me well enough to have figured out my intentions. In all seriousness I told her that while yes I didn't necessarily have a warm fuzzy about standing on a beach in my one and only suit while sickly sweet music played and dozens of other in-laws I still didn't know after more than a decade of marriage hovered around the happy couple. I did think it would be better if Wiggles and I were someplace else so she wouldn't try to run off and go swimming as they exchanged vows. My wife assured me that she would have a talk with our daughter before hand to prevent her from showing such a behavior. One must always realize, at least with my wife and her family, when talking any further is meaningless. So I told her okay and that as long as she thought she could control Wiggles I would go along with their plans. My son, Darth Spoilboy, who was seriously boggarting the computer working his mySpace page and staying in contact with all his friends online, began snickering since he knew first hand about Wiggles’ nature on a beach. Dragonwife walked back downstairs happy that I had gone her way but unsettled that Spoilboy too thought their plans unworkable. It doesn't really matter to me in the end since I will have my camera and the antics of my daughter and the reactions from my in-laws and the bride's family will make great pictures to post. If I get a video camera I may even get something that might get me some money from America Funniest Videos and no matter what I will find a Tiki bar.