When the bride’s brother makes his first appearance on a bicycle in the middle of a street closed down for a movie shoot, and he’s got his tux in a bag slung over his shoulder, and he’s wearing orange sunglasses, and the whole gang is on their way to a Rittenhouse Square restaurant brunch, you know it’s going to be a good day. Having the bride and groom be good and valuable friends of yours makes it all the better. Having a number of good and valuable friends among the guests…well, I might just have to put my camera down and dance a bit.
But, given the convenient convergence of my professional duties and my general aversion to musically induced physical destabilization, I just went on doing what I do better.
So my wife is friends with Amy, and Amy is friends with Lora, and I was introduced to Lora years ago at Ferry Fest, Amy’s band’s annual summer music…uh…thing, I guess you could call it, and when I first met her, she was described as John’s brother, and I used to work with John, who replaced Jackie (who is married to Bob), and Jackie lives across the street from the stop where my wife gets off the bus after work. So it’s a big happy circle. My memory might be a bit fuzzy here, but I believe that I met Dylan a few years after that, also at Ferry Fest, the Ferry Fest from which I have awesome video footage of Dylan crashing a man-tricycle in pretty gnarly fashion. I haven’t said yet that Ferry Fest used to happen in Harper’s Ferry (also the name of the band) WV at one campground, until they went dry, and then at a KOA until, because of a lack of dryness, some of the band’s peripherals used, at an hour that was very, very a.m., rougher than necessary language with the campground manager, who, after the fact, let the band know that the final Ferry Fest at that facility had been a good time for the most part up until about the last six minutes.
That was a digression, but I feel it needed to be said.
After brunch, it was back to the Courtyard Marriott in Center City. Let me say this about Courtyard Marriotts: I find that they have ridiculously photogenic rooms. That shot I was raving about a while back, the one that I said was the best photo I’ve ever taken? Courtyard Marriott in North Wales. In one of the rooms that you or I could rent if we were passing through and wanted to spend the night next to a Chili’s and across the street from a mall. The one in Center City is just as good, although I find myself wishing they didn’t have things like sofas and large screen tvs under all of their amazingly awesome windows.
Aside from the rooms that look like butter (that’s a colloquialism there…the rooms don’t actually look like yellow milk fat. That being said, this blogger is a guy who likes his butter), I got to witness my first bridesmaid-dress-lacing-up conga line:
That’s a good place to leave it for now. More to come.