Well after the Jeff (the jeep) crapped out on me I had no choice but to wake my father. Not only did he answer his phone at 3:30 in the morning, he more than graciously picked me up off the side of the road and drove me the rest of the way to the airport. Going above and beyond on the subject of being an awesome father, he then went back to the jeep and waited for AAA to arrive instead of going back to bed. Granted he did have to send me a photo of my beloved road companion on the back of a flatbed… but I think I can overlook that when I am choosing his retirement home in a few years.
So, I missed my intended flight, but through some cross airline finagling I managed to make it to Boston in time for some visiting with Steve and his wife Anne over a boozy brunch before the wedding.
The wedding ceremony it’s self was short sweet and had one very confused senior citizen literally walk through the middle of it. I mean I suppose that’s what you get when you have an outdoor ceremony in a municipal garden, but I failed to keep a straight face. I mean she literally walked across the front, slowing as she walked to gaze at the crowd as the bride was getting lined up to walk down the aisle. I don’t know if she never comprehended what was going on or if she just didn’t care, but she finished her leisurely stroll right as everyone stood for the bride to walk down the aisle. It was pretty priceless.
Post ceremony was cocktail hour ensued as the families went to do photos. It was at this moment that the fact that I knew no one other than the family of the groom became painfully clear… cue awkwardness as I enjoyed my beverage on the outskirts of the crowd.
Dinner rolled around and somehow I managed to be at the table of awesomeness, or at least that’s what I am choosing to call a table that was clearly populated with the more colorful characters at the wedding. I mean between my sleep deprived uncensored state, a leather vest clad kilt wearing rocker and his wife, team stoner mullet (two of them and their dates)… and of course the chaperones Steve and Anne. We had a blast. Team mullet smuggled in some home made wine and we all regaled each other with stories of the bride and grooms less proud moments.
After dinner was the dancing. I am not a dancer, well sober I am not a dancer at least. So as the band began to muster the crowd to the floor, I sat back and enjoyed people watching with my beverage.
As the evening progressed and my sobriety declined I ventured out on the dance floor… with tunes like “Shut Up and Dance”, “Rolling on the River”, and “Black Betty”… I danced my face off. I also think I may have become BFFs with several of the grooms aunts. Might not have been my target demographic, but at least there are some ladies out there that appreciate my drunken wit and tactless observations.
Post reception I went to the after party at the bar with the bride groom and all of the under 40 crowd. Unfortunately I had to stop drinking early in this event (work the next day) but I stayed till the bitter end. When last call rolled around I headed to the airport.
I was supposed to be at work at 8am on Sunday. However due to more airline shenanigans I didn’t make it till 11am.
I finally slept for the first time since Thursday night after work on Sunday.
Memorial Day… Memorial Day was spent working on Jeff. As of writing this, he is still unwell, but here is what I know. It is not a the fuel pump. It’s not the ignition coil. It’s not a grounding issue (I disconnected and cleaned all 23 grounds on this fucking thing). When I let the engine cool to ambient temp, it’ll start. It’ll come up to temp and do fine, until suddenly the engine just stops working (about 18 minutes after starting). This is a bad sensor of some kind somewhere, and when I find it I am mounting this thing on the front as a hood ornament…
