Tuesday, August 13, 2013

At the Top of the Stretch

Unless I am mistaken - and if there is anyone who could be it is the gent whose reflection stares back at me in the bathroom mirror every morning - Margaret and Suzanne have locked down every detail for Suz's wedding.  On Sunday afternoon, upon the Texas Tornado's return to Joisey from a trip to Rhode Island for the wedding of one of her closest friends, I watched the two women in my life roll through battle plans.  I felt for just a moment like a fly on the wall of Dwight Eisenhower's HQ in the run-up to D-Day - and not just because they were working off of not one - but two - gynormous schematics that detailed the layout of the room for the reception.  I was quite impressed.  I also came away thinking that had we really hoped to achieve "SHOCK AND AWE" when we invaded Iraq more than a decade ago, the one we would have asked for assistance were sitting side-by-side on the floor of my living room on Sunday afternoon. 

Suzanne's all-too-brief visit "home" wrapped up in the pre-dawn hours on Monday.  I deposited her at Newark Airport at 4:30 or so in order to ensure that she made her 5:25 flight to Houston without difficulty.  I was pleased to learn upon my arrival at my office Monday morning that United Airlines reported that her flight had taken off on time.  Had I slept well Sunday night then I would have minded much less actually getting up a half hour earlier than usual on Monday morning to ensure her on-time arrival at Newark Airport.  I found myself whistling Geldof's most famous tune all day Monday, which started with my feet on the ground at 2:30 A.M.  While I know that an early wake-up call was not his inspiration, had it been he would have had more than enough to work with to craft a masterpiece. 

Sunday morning I took care of my final piece of pre-wedding business.  I purchased a new black suit.  Had Suzanne/Ryan decided that the male parental units were to be clad in tuxedos I would have rented one.  They did not.  They decided that black suits shall be the order of the evening.  The Missus and I took a ride over to the Macy's store in Bridgewater Commons and - twenty minutes later - mission accomplished.  Not that anyone shall give a rat's ass what the father of the bride looks like - especially when he looks like Yours truly - I shall at least hold up my end in terms of my attire. 

We have reached the top of the stretch.  The finish line is in sight. 


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