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forgotten socks, fear and loathing at the Merion Tribute House, name-dropping
When I woke up at 7:00 Sunday morning (4:00 AM in my native time zone), I discovered that I'd forgotten to pack my black socks. This caused me some consternation. I'd put them on top of my suitcase so I wouldn't forget to pack them. I'd put them in the suitcase at some point, hadn't I? (When I returned home, I would find them on the floor, right where the suitcase had been sitting--as if they'd somehow passed through the suitcase to land on the ground.) I'd be forced to wear white sweat socks with my dark shoes and dark slacks. Oh well.
I had a hotel breakfast of coffee over oatmeal. Bland coffee and bland oatmeal are two bland tastes that go great together. I read more about the Simple and the Complex, and thought about how two bland foods could combine to create something so wonderful. I looked at the patterns that the oatmeal coast formed in the sea of coffee, its spikish curving fractal edge.
Back in my hotel room, I discovered that Philly radio, like SF radio, is a desert on Sunday morning. I stopped at one station because they were playing the Led Zeppelin song The Ocean. I'd been in a band of sorts with Bryan for a while. The Ocean had been one of the band's standards. Perhaps this was an omen that this radio station was worth listening to. The next songs, however, proved that this was just another classic rock station playing lots of tired songs. I turned off the radio.
I hooked up with Dave Otsuka, Rob Pfile, and Dave Moulton and we all headed over to the wedding site, the Merion Tribute House on the outskirts of Philly.
The roof of the Merion Tribute house is made of stone. There are these stone shingles. Someone told me the way you put stone shingles on your roof is that you first slowly drill through the shingles, then nail them into place. If you just nailed them, you'd break them.
The ceremony was outside. It was hot out under the sun, and even my borrowed bright white yamulka couldn't protect much of me from the burning rays of yon fiery orb. A couple of meters away from my sunny seat was the shade of a tree. I licked my lips and looked at that shade. Was there a way I could get up and stand in the shade without being too obvious? Probably not. So I didn't.
After the ceremony, there was appetizers and drinks and shade to be just outside the House. I got caught up with Dave & Dave & Rob. After a while Bryan and Elissa mingled over. We chatted a bit, but not for long before more people came along. One fellow walked up to Bryan, and by way of an introduction, said that he had the same name ("Brian," presumably). People in the cluster asked him, "Do you spell it with a Y?" The fellow seemed non-plussed. The question was repeated. "No, I don't spell it with a Y," he said. "Shall we call you Bran, then?" I asked and was immediately sorry. Here was a fellow who was obviously trying his best to reach out and make conversation, and I was teasing him. I realized I was still hot, and somewhat grumpy. I resolved to watch my tongue.
In a later bit of mingling, Dave Otsuka introduced himself as my lawyer. I thought about how I was out of it, carefully watching myself to make sure I didn't say mean, crazy things. And here was someone introducing himself as my lawyer. It felt like a scene out of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, with me as Hunter S. Thompson. I've never really identified with Dr. Thompson. But there you go.
There was a reception inside. I don't really remember much of it. It must have been fun. There was music, there was conversation. I wish that my brain functioned better in the heat, but it doesn't. Talk swirled around me. It was all I could do to catch up. I spent a lot of time looking at my water glass, trying to figure out how optics worked. Rob had confirmed my guesses about light bending around airplane wings, and I was glad to give myself a task that didn't call for quick thinking.
Someone sang a couple of opera songs, but he stopped after a while, much to my relief. Why do these people with their wonderful voices throw them away on opera? There was a bouquet toss, and after that was the part of the reception that I remember best. Bryan's little sister Michelle sang. Michelle is a choral singer. She was a member of the SF Girl's Chorus. I knew all this, but I guess I had never really thought of it before. I had chatted with her during past visits with Bryan, and she had always seemed like, I dunno, a fresh-faced kid. Now she was emitting tones. It was unreal. I caught myself staring.
At one point, I headed outside for air. Dave Moulton accompanied me. He told me about some of the goings on at some pre-wedding activities I'd missed the previous day. I mentioned that I'd been sorry to miss the day party because the invitation mentioned "lawn games". Michael Lehmann, the director of Heathers, is Bryan's cousin. The movie Heathers has a lot of cool croquet scenes. I had thought of cancelling out of my Friday night plans so I could catch a red-eye, make it to this party and perhaps see this guy play croquet. According to Dave, Michael didn't actually play any croquet at the party. So I hadn't really missed anything. Except, perhaps, a chance to meet Michael and many other people. Meet them under circumstances when I wasn't worried about passing out.
Besides Michael Lehmann, there was apparently some other celeb in attendance--one of the first people to write a book about how to win at blackjack or something. I heard a lot about this, but retained little information, concentrating instead on not passing out.
Conversations swirled around me. People danced. The band played. I tried to keep my head very still, and for the most part it did. My thoughts did not stay still, wandering far afield. And then there was a swirl to the exits. Dave & Rob & Dave dropped me off at the hotel; they were going off to the airport. I headed up to my room to shower and change.
I decided to go out to shop for groceries. I summoned the elevator. The first elevator to stop was full. The next elevator to stop was full. It occured to me that when we'd been setting out for the wedding, the elevators had been full. We'd waited quite a while for an elevator we could so much as squeeze into.
I summoned an Up elevator. One arrived. It was empty. It stopped
at the 15th floor. Some people got on--they were saying it was
unfortunate that there were so many full elevators. They were
so desperate that they were catching an up elevator. One of them
looked at the buttons inside the elevator and noticed that the "L"
button was lit. She looked at me. "Riding the up elevator 'cause
it's not full?" she asked. "Yup," I answered. "Pretty smart," she
said. "I hope so," I replied. We went up to the 22nd floor.
Someone got on, and then we rode down. We didn't stop at the 15th
floor (where this other group had had many friends waiting), or
at my floor, or at any other floors. The elevator wasn't full or
anything. I think there was something wrong with the elevator
control systems in that place.
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