The way Summer was meant to be...

Wake up whenever you want, go for a refreshing run, shower, eat your favorite junkfood cereal, crank up some country on the living room stereo, and finish reading a good book. Now that’s summer! Believe it or not, that’s how my day started today. It seems too good to be true, and, sadly, I know it can’t last. It’s a brief reprieve. A mere one-week window marking the time between the end of my summer internship with the Fairfax County Attorney’s Office – and all the recent wedding activity – and the start of the fall semester.


When I proposed to Heather during spring break back in March, I never anticipated the flurry of activity that would soon engulf us. To the casual observer, Spring was asserting itself slowly along the expansive network of Northern Virginia hardwood branches. However, in the world of “H & R” things were getting earnest. First there was the planning. Bless Heather’s heart, that’s when she had to do a lot of legwork. To be honest, the most I remember from that phase is giving a lot of affirmative nods while a long series of scenes from bridal magazines were thrust in front of my view. I tried to minimize comment, or, if I did offer verbal critiques of the glossy (overstated) depictions of wedding bliss, I tried to make them ambiguous. Reassuring if possible, but still ambiguous. I knew if I was too eager to voice approval at the first in a series of 100 pictures of reception table settings, I would be accused of picking the first thing to come along in a bid to avoid further ruminations on cutlery and seating arrangements. Of course it would be a hollow accusation. I think I probably did like many of the very first suggestions thrown at me, but I fussed and delayed and appeared as fastidious as possible, for good effect. I think Heather appreciated these genuine efforts. She is at work right now or I’d have her back me up. You may say stereotypical male indifference. I say, “Pshaaw! I’ll have none of that! I'm not beholden to any male mold. I am a sensitive, in-tune, Twenty-first century type of guy. Evolved.” :) ...Well, let’s see, what came next? There was the, ...um, --oh, yeah. The engagement pictures, the sample invitations, the dress selection, oh, and cakes, and favors.... –Actually, you know what? I think my mind’s getting a little fuzzy. Let me switch gears for a second.

I’m sure you’d all really love to hear about how my 1994 Kawasaki, Ninja 600R formed a part of our wedding preparations. I’ve been working on it simultaneously as Heather and I prepared for married life. I went to great lengths to get legal on it here in Virginia. That required riding my sport bike on an obstacle course at the DMV while a grouchy DMV-lady checked boxes on a clipboard and barked orders at me between routines. Talk about pressure. But Heather is worth it. I want to be able to take us for rides around the twisty fall roads outside the city later on. I don’t think Heather fully appreciates these plans yet but I’m doing all I can to warm her up to the idea. The horseback riding thing on our honeymoon kind of fit into that scheme. Admittedly, an animal can be pretty unpredictable at times. But an iron horse, on the other hand, is a smooth running masterpiece of human ingenuity and craftsmanship (or in my case, mass production), and it follows orders very literally. As long as she can trust me, she can trust the machine. No reason for worry. An exultant new hobby we can share together, even after horses get the boot! (Of course there is some added risk with uncontrollable variables like weather, road quality, traffic, and mechanical failures, but surely these are minimal. Breathe easy, Heather.) Will you go for it, Dear? Take as much time as you need to answer. Don’t jump to any hasty conclusions. Before you answer, you should read “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.” That book played no small role in justifying, in my mind, the decision to buy an old motorcycle off eBay (which has proven rather high-maintenance so far). It’s all about the opportunity for deeper meaning that motorcycle ownership brings: the mixture of visceral experience and personal reflection, the complexity and simplicity of it all, the proverbial freedom and wind rushing through your hair (interrupted only by Virginia’s mandatory helmet law, and the fact that I really have no hair). I ask simply, “What’s not to like?!”

Now that’s what you really wanted to hear about wedding planning, right? Well, notwithstanding what you think, that’s the version you’re getting today. I have to get busy soaking in this wonderful day devoid of court opinions and mandatory deadlines (and I have to walk to the grocery store and get the ingredients for our shish kabob dinner so it’ll be ready when Heather gets home from work at 6:00 pm). What a life! :)