Weddings & Birthdays & Such

I’m on SkyTrain, burbs-bound. My sister is picking me up at Lougheed Station, and then we’re driving to Eagle Ridge Hospital for some kind of multi-health care professional pow wow on my Dad’s living situation. As he tends to be less than realistic/forthcoming about his challenges, my sister wants to be there to keep things real. And as contradicting/challenging my Dad is difficult to the point of traumatic for all his children, Carolyn wants me there for support. Which I fully understand and appreciate. Hence my current location.

It’s gonna be a crazy morning, cause Jason is picking me up from the condo at noon. We’re heading out on about a 17-day band jaunt, which was kid’s stuff back in the day but nearly qualifies as epic in the here and now. Speaking of epic, I think this blog might get long. Cause I haven’t updated in a while, and cause I’m a fast typer on a counterflow SkyTrain (plenty of room for a fella and his laptop to kick it). I don’t think I’ll get to the pokerz, which were the original impetus for starting a blog, so next blog will be pokercentric (you’ve been warned, Reba).

So, let’s see. What’s happened recently? On reflection, lots. Last Friday was my birthday. Easily the least-celebrated of all my birthdays. Which is not a complaint at all. I’m a low key guy and don’t take well to feting of any kind, so this is not at all like Chris Hamilton lamenting his cake-free birthday in Twin Falls, Idaho (too inside a reference?) But it is just kind of weird to not have a family gathering, kind of sad in relation to all the craziness going on with the parents. First time, ever, to not gather with my birth family on a birthday. Things change, I guess.

Rachel took me to Morton’s Steakhouse. Seemed a good spot to spend my last childless (God-willing) birthday. We split the $125 Porterhouse. Can’t say whether it justifies the price tag, but it was definitely the best steak I’ve ever had. Afterwards Katy joined us at the Granville Cinemas for The Brothers Bloom. Where we were the worst movie companions for poor Katy, like, ever. My stomach was adversely affected by the steak (still worth it), plus I had to meet Tyler to give him a key for the guest suite in our building, so I would say I missed about half the show. And Rachel was quite tired, literally doing the fall-asleep head bob during most of it. But I think Katy quite liked the show. I liked what I saw of it, will endeavor to see it again sometime.

Saturday was Trevor’s wedding. I think it went off perfect. Beautiful and natural and elegant enough but still low-key. The ceremony was down at Jericho Beach. It threatened to rain, but never did. Was actually quite pleasant, and the rain forecasts kept the amount of riff raff (or, I guess, random beach visitors, to be more polite about it) to a minimum. It all went without a hitch, except that Trevor’s Uncle Jack cut up my tuxedo jacket. See, the pins for the boutonnieres were nowhere to be found, so Trevor just got his uncle to cut a small slit in the lapel of his jacket (where there’s kind of a slit already, it’s just sewn shut, so Uncle Jack just cut it open). Unfortunately, he kind of missed the mark on mine, and just sort of cut up the jacket a little bit in the general vicinity of that slit. Looked pretty bad, but it’s a few days later and I’ve yet to hear from Black & Lee. So, you know, fingers crossed. I don’t think those things are that expensive anyway.

Reception was at Ma & Pa Rogers homestead out in Lander, and like the ceremony it was pretty awesome, imho. I got kinda happy on the supply of Joie’s finest that Mike Dinn got us to deliver to the party, which if you’re gonna get happy is a good way to do it. I have heard since that I was quite loud in my appreciation for the hamburgers (Costco Angus burgers, or so I’m told), but whatever. Nothing wrong with expressing a little appreciation.

Jason put together a bluegrass band to play for the duration. Of course at some point Trevor got up to play a couple, so Reba took over on fiddle, Tyler played some percussion, and I got on upright bass. So it was a Clumsy Lovers concert, albeit a brief one. To say I’m a terrible upright bass player is far too kind, but I was in the mood for it and it was tremendous fun. We did a Trevor original and then “Will The Circle” and “Cluck Old Hen”, and then I saw Trevor’s brother Mark looking on. He’s a bass player too so I waved him in, even though I kind of regretted it because I really was enjoying myself and then Trevor’s friend Greg got up and they did “Stand By Me” and “Love Is The Seventh Wave” and I would have enjoyed playing those tunes. But it’s good to be inclusive.

Sunday was the Grouse Grind, which was awesome notwithstanding backpackgate. Tyler and his mother Connie, who was in town for Trevor’s shindig/wedding, and Katy came along. Now I’ve only completed the Grind twice before. And generally Rachel, who is far better/faster at this sort of thing than yours truly, carries a pack with a change of clothes for the top and water and whatnot. And this time I went out a bit quicker than her (she is pregnant, after all). Which happened last time too, only I needed frequent breaks so she caught up quick enough and eventually had to wait for me. This time, however, I don’t know why but I didn’t really feel I needed any breaks. It was good grinding conditions, kind of cool, relatively quiet on the path, and I just felt really good.

I finished it in 71 minutes (my previous two times were 2 hours and 90 minutes). 71 minutes was straight up shocking to me. Not that it’s a great time in the real world, but compared to my previous times I just didn’t see it coming. I think that’s it for big sudden improvements, tho. I think I’m going to have to really earn future improvements.

But oh yeah, backpackgate. So I’m at the top and sitting on the deck watching for Rachel to appear at the end of the path, and when I do see her I know I’m in trouble. I say as much to Katy, but she says no, Rachel just hasn’t seen me yet. I know better. I know the difference between ‘not seeing me’ and ‘seeing me with bad thoughts’. I don’t blame her for the bad thoughts. I just let my pregnant wife carry a relatively heavy backpack up a mountain while I made my merry unencumbered way up ahead. It looks bad on paper. And also looks bad in real life. So I screwed up there. To her credit, Rachel didn’t stay mad, and was very supportive of my PB time. She did mention several times that she was having quite substantial “hate thoughts” towards the end of the climb. But in the main she let me off pretty easy. Cause she’s good like that.