A Wedding on Halloween Night

My camera is ailing. Although I have steady hands, it often takes blurry pix, so bear with me.

This was my delicious b'fast. Eggs smothered with cheese, onions, yellow squash, mushrooms, and coyote scat. Oh, sorry, the latter is from the book I'm listening to in the kitchen: Merle's Door: Lessons from a Freethinking Dog.

Slept over Scott's last night after we returned from the Wedding. We were both exhausted. When I awoke he was gone, his car not there. I knew he'd gone shopping at the Giant.

While making my breakfast, he walked in the house and said he'd already changed my clock!

After this blog post, gotta spend a couple of hours working on my novel. It takes place in a monastery. Brother Thomas, the main character, was flabbergasted when he found out some terrible news as did Edwin Romond. We heard Ed recite his wonderful poetry when our writers' group met at the Lambertville PA library a dozen or so years ago.

Oh, we lost so many people since then. Joe Traceno, Bob Muller, Elaine Restifo.

Onward to the Northampton Country Club. We had no probs finding it. 

 Two men were playing golf. You can't see them. Interesting how so many things were going on at the same time including anudder wedding.

 Wear BLACK or you can't come in!

 Bongart and Hover, sez the sign.

Paul Bongart speaks to some deaf relatives. None of his four children are hearing impaired, as is he.

 Scott met Paul when he was four.

"Are you listening to the ball game?" Scott asked since Paul had hearing aides in his ear.

"No," said Paul. "I'm hard of hearing and this is how I hear." He showed Scott his aides and a microphone he wore back then on his chest.

He and Paul were fast friends ever since. Scott knew Paul's parents, both now deceased.

 Hello, Ben, I said to the waiter. How ya doin?

He was exhausted from running around all day. You couldn't tell.

The geese have found a nice home on the green. They were flying and I tried to get a pic of geese in flight, to no avail.

 Neither Scott nor I sat down. Both of us have bad backs and sitting is the worst thing you can do.

 Smartphones .... ready, set, click!

Flower children scattering petals.

 You can see the cross on the officiating minister. I took an unrecognizable blurry close-up of it later. Beautiful! His wife gave it to him when he was ordained. A huge white enameled cross. It may have been her father's.

The religion was Presbyterian Reform. Let's find out what that is.

Paul and daughter Carly. When I ordered my "dessert wine" - my daughter Sarah taught me about this - Walt, the waiter asked me, "What's the bride's first name?"

I was slow on the uptake, so someone answered first. Her husband's name is Mark.

 The agile photographer and videographer.

 Chow is served!

 Oh, look! I did get Bob's cross. Double-click to enlarge.

Appetizers were delicious! Here's a tender crust holding tender filet mignon. Scott and I knew we must fill up with or-derves as it takes a long time before the main meal is served.

Paul and his son James, who is on active duty.

 Carly is a real beauty. I asked Paul if it was awkward being around his ex-wife and he said Not at all.

Possibly on the right is Mark, Mr Carly Bongart.

Scott's date. Am wearing the same black polka-dot outfit I wore when the recently deceased Gunter David profiled me in The Jewish Exponent.

 Was trying to get a pic of Paul's ex-wife, but this isn't her. She's a very attractive woman who never remarried.

Many women who Scott knows from SEPTA say to their spouses, I don't wanna be married anymore. And leave.

 At last my vegetarian dinner arrives. Portabello mushroom regaled with spinach, melted cheese and a huge red pepper. Roasted taters and crunchy green beans. Scott finished it for me. He enjoyed his chicken dinner.

Jim and Michele Williams, who live in Bristol Borough PA. Jim, who I sat next to, said he's a carnivore, so I better watch out for my hand.

Michele makes a huge Thanksgiving dinner for friends and family. They buy two turkeys. 

The music was so loud we could barely hear one another. Jim's worked all over the world. I told him I worked near Bristol at the now defunct Bristol-Bensalem Human Services. Look, it's still listed on the Internet.

Am still in touch with Greg Perri and of course, fellow therapist Judy, now of Niwot, CO,  who recommends great movies to me. Judy's son and daughter/law are farmers in Boulder. Their crop? Marijuana.

 Scott owns three suits. Two Armani's and a Jordache, which this one is. Why did you wear it? I asked. B/c it's black, he said.

When Sarah went to Abington Friends, I remember her saying how ridiculous it was that it was her friends had to wear Jordache Jeans, which cost over hundred dollars each.

Nice ceiling above the dance floor. I was doing neck exercises to pass the time and walking outdoors for exercise. Our plan was to eat dessert and then split.

Ah, here it comes now.

Wedding cake was good... I don't eat the icing... and chocolate mousse with edible chocolate crust. Mom would've loved it.

My insulin pen was quite busy.

Never leave home w/o the four-piece kit.

The DJ played a rap song. I asked Zephir, a black waiter, who the rapper was. Sir Mix-a-Lot, he said. I'll put him on my playlist. Dan said he's a 'one hit wonder.'

BTW, on every single table as we sat down, there were Parker House rolls with a fancy pat of butter.

No one ate any!


After one of my meanderings outdoors in the cool night - I was wearing my comfy painted sneakers - Paul came by and introduced Scott to anudder childhood 'friend.'  Paul's ex-wife had invited him.

Who was that you were shaking hands with, I asked Scott.

Bob B, he said. He and Bob's stepfather were virulent antisemites and used to beat up Scott b/c he's Jewish. Scott learned to fight back then and became a good fighter. He got his nose broken and his teeth knocked out fighting to defend himself.

Scott's father supported him in his fighting endeavors. Scott could fight anyone, said his dad, except girls. Scott forgot and punched out a girl.

To teach him a lesson, Scott's dad socked him in the belly.

But that's all in the past! What's your day look like, Dear Reader?

Speedway Gas on the way home. Speedway?