Here Comes The Bride

Ben got married this past weekend. It came as a bit of a surprise to a lot of people. Not his Mom, though, she said she always expected it. It caught me a bit off balance, I have to say. Anyway, it was a beautiful wedding, as weddings in the rolling farm country of Connecticut are wont to be, and the day was one of the few warm sunny days of this cold and wet New England summer. There were the usual wedding things: a touch of drama, a touch of drunkenness, really good looking groomsmen, flamingos, people dancing with no regard for the fact that they might be caught on film, and catching up with people that you never seem to have enough time to catch up with. We finally finished off that awful half gallon of Old Smuggler Scotch that was opened at my wedding and ceremoniously consumed, swig by nauseating swig, at every subsequent wedding. Good riddance to that vile stuff. I got to know Ben's wife, Shannon, a little bit better. You done good Ben. I just wish that Ben and Shannon didn't live so far away. It would take me at least 60 days to ride my bike for a visit.