Saturday, October 8, 2011

Setting the Scene

It's been no secret to my wife, my friends, my family, or anyone who has watched me only post once since the Crim that I've been in a horrible funk here.  The Crim is my Superbowl, so if I have success there it's simply natural for the runner in me to, in effect, be "going to Disney World."

Also, don't forget, despite the Brooksie being this past weekend, it was the least of my concerns.  I had better things to think about.


I was occupied with the annual Red Wings/Maple Leafs game with my friends.  Last year I rooted hard for the Wings and made good fun of the Leafs (and Dayle our Canadian pal) the whole game, so it's only natural, given I don't really care about either team, to show up decked out in a Leafs jersey with a stocking cap on and a cup of Tim Hortons.  Dayle's reaction upon first seing me was priceless, and being an ironic Maple Leafs fan at Joe Louis Arena is an entertaining way to go, even if you do waste a little time of your day making sure you learn the Canadian National Anthem.  What can I say, there's still that natural actor in me from playing leads in school plays.
"I know that you wanna be Canadian..."
I also bailed out Jason by getting my brother to come and pay for an extra ticket.  Everyone I know declined to stay home and watch the Tigers/Yankees game, but his cable was out anyway, so he jumped in.  To my friends:  Sorry you stayed home just to watch a lot of rain on the tellie...suckers.  The lessons here are:  1)never assume that a lady will actually go to sports with you and 2) never stay home to watch things when you could be doing something (it's lame).

Quickly following our nuptuals, my wife's maid of honor had her wedding this weekend.  I had a few tasks.

1)  Figure out something to wear - Now, just to be clear, I am not your hopeless, fashion-challenged male that has no idea how to dress himself.  I may not be the traditional handsome debonaire man here, but when it comes to nice clothes that work with my body type, I have an arsenal, and I can bring the heat.

Slight problem, though.  All of my suits, that I figured would be fine, now fit me like a child that got into daddy's closet.  My jackets have reached sleeping bag status.  Now what?

2)  Set up for the wedding - Mike and Katie did so much behind the scenes of our wedding that I hadn't realized, so I owed them HUGE.  I knew that Katie's parents would be giving me things to do, and I was good with that.  I was even glad I would be able to return the favor and help them.  The one thing I didn't know I would be doing is carrying their wedding cake (handmade by her sister) from inside the house to the reception tent outside.  Apparently Mike did it for us, and it stressed him out, so now it was my turn.

3)  Pray hard - Friday's weather was cold, rainy, and awful  Less than a month ago, it's 91 for our wedding and suddenly we have mid-40s.  If I'm a bride and see Friday's weather, and head to our house with some things for the next day still left undone...I'm freaking out.  Katie was obviously stressed, but not as much as you'd expect.  I was praying and hoping beyond hope that they did not get dumped on, because at those temps it would have been intolerable. 

I woke up at 7:30 Saturday morning to make sure I figured out something good to wear.  Patching together a great dress shirt that my sister bought for me (that I've never wore because I was too fat), a brand new tie, an really nice sweater my mom got for me 3 years ago, and an old hat that belonged to grandpa, I was able to piece together something classy and old-fashioned where everything matched.  The only problem was that I had to go with my feet-killing brown shoes that rub my heels like fatter me's thighs in corduroy.

Katie's parents had me do a lot, but nothing unreasonable.  The cake was a two man job, and oh boy was it scary.  I spent most of the trip going backwards, on wet grass, down a slight hill, with lumpy, uneven ground, with fallen hickory nuts lining the yard.  It was frightening, and in addition there were:  the stairs, navigating around tent stakes, straps, and ropes, and going around tables and chairs.  The collective sigh from me and the other chum carrying this thing is the loudest, most relieved, most synchronized sigh I've heard in my life.

So all went well, except for nobody even touching a pony keg of Coors that Mike bought instead of what he and Katie agreed on because he simply waited too long to order.  Oh well, live and learn.  The guests didn't even finish two 24 packs of Sam Adams Octoberfest (I only had 2), so there really wasn't a lot of drinking going on, and the reception ended somewhat early.  I'm guessing Mike did not try to do what I did, and attempt to drink it all the next day, because he's smarter than this guy...

"Wheeze the juice"

Does beer kill weeds?  Let's find out.
Obviously the Brooksie already happened and you can probably figure out who I am and how I've done if you look through the results, but "Spoilers..."

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