A penguin and a polar bear are sitting on an iceberg. The penguin yells, "No Soap Radio!" They both jump in the water.

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Just like the Anchorman joke



After a half-hour drive up what had to be the most crooked and dust-covered mountain road in existance, evilly two-way but wide enough for just one car and teetering on a death-promising drop, my friend Ryan's boat of a car fish-tailing constantly, we got to Amanda's wedding ten minutes before it started. Just enough time to change, we thought, until we walked off the road to where we thought the wedding was located.

Nobody.

We asked a pair of hikers if they'd seen a wedding in the area and they pointed up. Way up. Up a hill/mountain that looked back at me with a "bring it on" steepness. "They're on the top," one sweaty hiker said.

There are few friends for whom I wouldn't have turned around and begun wording an apology note. Luckily Amanda is on that short list.

Pressed for time, we attacked the beast head-on, ignoring the hikers' suggestion of a flatter trail that curved around the back of the mountain, and a sign threatening a fine for walked in that restricted area. The couple was locking lips by the time I finally caught my breath. At least the view was worth it; Amanda said we could see five different states from up there (N.C., Tenn., Va., Ga. and S.C.). I didn't believe her until the sun set and we saw town lights through the Smokey Mountains' fog farther off than I thought was possible.

Amanda walked down the aisle/dirt trail barefoot, had the preacher recite a Pablo Neruda poem and refrain from saying "Jesus" or "God" once, and was later seen at the reception walking around in her wedding dress sipping a Corona.

The girl's got style.

At the reception we were challenged by Josh, the new husband, who claimed Ryan and I weren't fulfilling our reputations for drinking. We set about creating makeshift drinking games, beer pong with not enough cups and beer caps instead of pong balls was the crowd favorite. Ryan slept in the yard. I made it into the house and onto the floor. Sam, the lightweight of the group, left the bed I made for her and was found in someone's closet. Whether Sam thought the closet was a bedroom or a bathroom is still in debate.

All in all, it was the best wedding I've been to, and made me change the few things I've actually thought about for my hypothetical and very, very far off in the future wedding. It will be outside, my friend PV will be reciting the Rives poem "Glaucoma," and the wedding bulletin will be in 1940s-style newsprint.

One breakfast, 199 miles, a coffee, two Red Bulls and one rest area stop later, I'm home, minus two single friends but gaining my second set of married friends, my ex-turned-friend Leslie having gotten hitched last Sunday. PV's engaged too. They're dropping like flies.

5 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I'm fighting Rya to be your best man.... or could there be a double best man situation? I don't care as long as I get the best man pendant or badge

9/24/2007 09:20:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

and by "Rya" I meant "Ryan"

9/24/2007 09:21:00 PM  
Blogger Luke McIntyre said...

Maybe I'll just have all groomsmen, and then directly after the ceremony there will be a battle royale among them. That would really decide the best man among them, wouldn't it?

"You may now kiss the bride...and now everyone in the cage."

Not that I think that's appropriate for a wedding, but I would like to celebrate the occasion by sitting in the emperor chair and at some point deciding someone's life or death with a thumbs up or down. It's all I've ever wanted, really.

But careful, Ryan fights dirty. I've seen him do it.

9/25/2007 06:41:00 AM  
Blogger cherokee said...

that i do.

don't forget the ghostbuster theme idea

9/26/2007 12:08:00 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oh man, let me be a groomsmen. Its been awhile since Ive had to fight to the death. Over a year in fact. Its been way to long. Bestman here I come!

A blood-soaked Pv

10/04/2007 08:07:00 PM  

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