[i]
Just before 10 a.m. I hear the racket of the dogs downstairs. It's early and everybody's slowly waking up. The sun shines blindingly through the front screen door.
Phil's mom made us all Blueberry Pancakes and Coffee.
There's a lot of preparation to be done – blowing up balloons – making sushi – setting up a popcorn machine. Under the tent by the pool we set up a PA system to which Phil insisted on playing music strictly from the 50's. I squat on a bucket with an electric guitar and perform some mountain-like background melodies in G.
A kickball game is organized in the front yard, surprisingly the only game we play. We had planned on conducting a wizard staff jousting competition and hide-and-seek games with flashlights.
Later in the evening, JP and a few friends have prepared an area off to the side of the house. They gathered anything wildlife and deadlife they could find in the yard and nearby forest – bails of hay for the seating – a pile of pinecones, flowers, crabapples, and stalks of field grass – rings of vine and ivy – a beautiful rustic scene. It's meant to be a silent ceremony with no priest and hardly any spoken word. We hum the tune of Amazing Grace as Phil and Cheongah make their way down the hill. JP leads them along sweeping the ground with a pine branch. Up at the hay altar the ceremony begins. Their wrists are wrapped with ivy and flowers symbolizing their commitment. The bowl of dead cicada exoskeletons is tossed up in the air, "And here's to the many babies you'll have!" A spout of water is poured in a circle around them. They each take a mug of their own water and are instructed to toss their mugs away from each other. JP places the pine branch and a can of PBR in their arms. They drink, then turn around, and in silence of course, are presented as Mr. and Mrs. Philip Gray. Everybody tosses their handful of foliage. They kiss and shake hands with the friends and family, one of them being a 90-year-old grandmother. It's a beautiful ceremony.
Herschel, a good friend of Phil's from Richmond, makes a brief speech and mentions, "We don't know if this is just another one of Phil's tricks..."
Elliott lights off a rocket that shoots over the trees. Phil and Cheongah are married, unofficially but officially in our hearts. In a few months they'll be officially married in Korea with a traditional Korean wedding.
Chris, the neighbor of Phil's parents, is barbecuing everything imaginable over a large fire pit using a caged fence door as a grill: Kabobs with Mushrooms, Peppers, Onions, Zucchini, Shrimp, Bok Choy, Pork Ribs, Steaks, Chicken, Corn on the Cob, etc. Normally I wouldn't eat red meat and poultry but I, along with other vegetarians at the party, make an exception to enjoy these cookout delicacies.
Under the tent by the pool I join Phil and a guy named Tyler in a cathartic chant with buckets, trashcans, and a brass pot lid.
After snapping a few photos of the girls dancing by the pool I pass by Herschel who's talking with somebody else.
I comment, "Girls love to dance."
He says, "Plumage. It's all about plumage."
I'm unusually tired and not full of much more energy. Elliott and Michelle started napping an hour ago. I decide to settle down and do the same.
...
I've already been sleeping for a while now. It's got to be after 4 a.m. Phil walks into the bedroom with a mischievous smile and protests, "Robert, it's not your bedtime yet." He stands there with his wizard staff of accumulated beer cans duct taped together.
Me: "Phil, that wizard staff almost surpasses your height."
He takes a huge last swig and says, "Time for another beer," then walks out.
[i] All images by me.
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