(September 23-26) An interesting study in human relations, this gullet excursion. The challenge: close, sometimes very close, physical proximity for 4 days to 11 other travelers none of whom you have ever laid eyes on before. As in any forced encounter, some interactions fare better than others, but you know deep down you’d like all of them to work as well as possible since you’re virtually nose to nose with these folks for more than just afternoon tea. What this means, among other things, is putting up with Umete’s snoring a couple of feet away on the deck’s night time sleeping area, or Herb and Judy’s effortless (and, sadly, continuous) attempts at dominating breakfast, lunch and dinner conversations.
For us, the experience worked well, first and foremost, because -- with the exception of Umete -- all of us spoke English. Immeasurable barriers were overcome as a result of this good fortune. I mean, it’s not like we needed to immerse ourselves in Swedish or German to get by. Rather, bonded by everyone’s love for travel stories, an avalanche of information and opinions were the order of the day. Want to know what the life of a journalist is like? Done. Want to know the nuances of beekeeping? Done. Or, maybe you just want to know what it’s like to pedal your way through eastern Europe. Done. Even Herb and Judy’s voracious appetite for the spotlight could not disrupt this totally pleasurable atmosphere.
This may be a bit of an exaggeration, but we ate every nine minutes -- or, so it seemed. A wild pastiche of tomatoes, potatoes, nutella, bread, cheeses, pink deli meats, grilled chicken or beef, pasta, and the ubiquitous olives. Not gourmet, for sure. But, plentiful, tasty, and satisfying. The scenery is spectacular: mountains falling into the deep blue Mediterranean, a smattering of ruins, ancient castles lording over the sea from protected heights, and gorgeous sailing vessels dotting the waters. Swimming off our boat revealed to us not only how warm the water was, but how incredibly salty it was as well. We had floats and noodles to bask on, but, seriously, it would take more than a little effort to sink.
One last note: sleeping on deck was awesome. Lulled to sleep by a gentle rolling of the boat, you could try to keep your eyes open just long enough to take in the full moon and its beams traversing the sea like a yellow carpet leading directly to your eyes.
Not a bad way to end the day.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Friday, October 15, 2010
You Can't Get There From Here. Really.
(October 7) Ok. It’s been just about a perfect trip, right? Lots of sun, gorgeous settings, great food and wine, and great company. We are smiling, relaxed, and nostalgic about leaving.
Leaving? Who said anything about leaving? At midnight on the eve of our departure from Paros, we hear a knock on our door. My thinking is this is never a good sign, and this time is no exception. It is our local travel agent who comes to tell us that the air traffic controllers of Greece have gone on strike, and our flight to Athens (and then home) has been cancelled. We will now need to take a ferry to Athens, and wave bye-bye to our flight out of Athens should it actually leave. Which it did. Without us.
What now? Plan B. Get to Athens, get a hotel near the airport and then start the always endless slog of dealing with the airlines to rebook our departure. One of the dark, little secrets of the airlines is that when you miss a flight and you’re using more than one air carrier, they always point the finger at the other guy. Your problem is never their problem. And, so it was with us. Lufthansa told us we would have to deal with United, and United told us we were out of luck. They could maybe get us out five days later and we would have to buy new tickets at a cost of about $5,000 per couple. That’s right. $5,000. This is not a typo. Sensing this was not an option, we toyed with the idea of staying in Athens, see the sights. Or, maybe go back to one of the islands and wait it out until United deigned to give us mileage tickets at a fairly nominal cost. In the meantime: souvlaki, ouzo, repeat.
What happened instead was we tried another United phone number and were met with a far more compassionate lady who tried her level best to re-acquaint us with the U.S. of A. without draining our bank accounts. She tried to get us on any flight back to the U.S. This meant possible trips to New York, Charlotte, Chicago, Miami, Atlanta, Houston, Detroit, and even Canada. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. (Vegas. She should have tried Vegas. Anything is possible there.) We were stranded. I had visions about now having enough time to learn Greek, or, at a minimum, increase my tolerance to ouzo. I wondered: would Mojo remember us? In fact, would he be cared for since our house sitter had other obligations going into the weekend? Huge stress on this one. (Through a series of emails and texts we were able to get word to our neighbors to take the little guy in. Problem solved.) After rolling up $300 in telephone charges, Compassionate Lady at United forged ahead to find us some minimally sensible solutions, and, amazingly, she found one. We could leave the next day, but would have to stay in London for a couple of days.
Fish and chips anyone?
Leaving? Who said anything about leaving? At midnight on the eve of our departure from Paros, we hear a knock on our door. My thinking is this is never a good sign, and this time is no exception. It is our local travel agent who comes to tell us that the air traffic controllers of Greece have gone on strike, and our flight to Athens (and then home) has been cancelled. We will now need to take a ferry to Athens, and wave bye-bye to our flight out of Athens should it actually leave. Which it did. Without us.
What now? Plan B. Get to Athens, get a hotel near the airport and then start the always endless slog of dealing with the airlines to rebook our departure. One of the dark, little secrets of the airlines is that when you miss a flight and you’re using more than one air carrier, they always point the finger at the other guy. Your problem is never their problem. And, so it was with us. Lufthansa told us we would have to deal with United, and United told us we were out of luck. They could maybe get us out five days later and we would have to buy new tickets at a cost of about $5,000 per couple. That’s right. $5,000. This is not a typo. Sensing this was not an option, we toyed with the idea of staying in Athens, see the sights. Or, maybe go back to one of the islands and wait it out until United deigned to give us mileage tickets at a fairly nominal cost. In the meantime: souvlaki, ouzo, repeat.
What happened instead was we tried another United phone number and were met with a far more compassionate lady who tried her level best to re-acquaint us with the U.S. of A. without draining our bank accounts. She tried to get us on any flight back to the U.S. This meant possible trips to New York, Charlotte, Chicago, Miami, Atlanta, Houston, Detroit, and even Canada. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. (Vegas. She should have tried Vegas. Anything is possible there.) We were stranded. I had visions about now having enough time to learn Greek, or, at a minimum, increase my tolerance to ouzo. I wondered: would Mojo remember us? In fact, would he be cared for since our house sitter had other obligations going into the weekend? Huge stress on this one. (Through a series of emails and texts we were able to get word to our neighbors to take the little guy in. Problem solved.) After rolling up $300 in telephone charges, Compassionate Lady at United forged ahead to find us some minimally sensible solutions, and, amazingly, she found one. We could leave the next day, but would have to stay in London for a couple of days.
Fish and chips anyone?
The Gateway to Heaven?
(October 3) Ask yourself to name the three most beautiful places you’ve seen on the planet, and ask yourself why you made these choices. Was it a beautiful beach, a majestic mountain range, the most charming of cobble stoned villages, or, maybe, a lush tropical paradise? Then, narrow your choices down to one. How can there be just one best, one most beautiful place?
I thought that myself until we came to Santorini. The pictures I had seen over the years seemed stunning, but I also knew this place to be a popular tourist mecca -- something that tends to erode great beauty very quickly. Does Santorini have tourists? You bet. Does it have a thousand jewelry, t-shirt, and souvenir shops? Of course. But, all of them combined cannot begin to put a dent in the overwhelming grandeur and sheer mind-bending, breathtaking beauty of this place. Most of the island is a huge rock, but at its western façade, it serves as a fitting foundation for the small, white-washed towns that hug the cliffs along a fantastically sparkling Aegean Sea with views to the horizon so vast and so sweeping you swear you can see the curvature of the earth. The Caldera, as they call it, or the volcanic remains of what was once part of this island, jut out of the sea just enough to give a proper sense of size and distance to this matchless vista and give context to sunsets that are so breathtaking they can make you cry.
The towns of the west coast are a vertical jumble of white-washed buildings and blue-domed churches. They seemingly overlap one another so that from a distance they appear to be one rolling structure. Trying to identify a particular hotel or restaurant from a distance, as you move higher or lower along the aerie-like paths that hug the cliffs, is a game in itself, not entirely unlike “Where’s Waldo.” From the water, the towns and cliffs give all the appearance of snow-capped mountains, the cliffs a deep reddish brown capped by the sea of white buildings on top.
Somewhat like the Amalfi coast in Italy, Santorini’s famed western slope towns are not for the poorly conditioned. Everything is either straight up or straight down. Even getting from our hotel bedroom to our bathroom involved a hike of several steps up and then a steep staircase down. (In the middle of the night, this is not a task taken lightly.) What this presents is an endless opportunity to see everything from different angles -- from above and below -- as you navigate vertically. In one moment you are looking up at a church dome; in the next, you’re taking a picture of the same dome from above.
The alleyways of these towns, notably Fira, and the crown jewel, the achingly beautiful Oia (pronounced Eeya), are almost narrow enough to span with your arms. There are no cars here; there is simply no room. Automobile traffic is relegated to streets inland and to the flatter parts of the island. But, the manner that these alleyways connect, sideways and vertically, give you the feel sometimes that you’ve landed in a life-sized M.C. Escher drawing where all paths seem circular and without resolution.
As in Rhodes, there seem to be cafes and restaurants every nine feet. I have no idea how all of them survive, but I’m told they do. You pay for the view, of course, but mostly that is a price we’re willing to pay. Order your “tomato balls” -- deep-fried tomatoes in a chewy crust -- or deep-fried stuffed olives, or cheese plates, or, for heartier fare all of the beef, lamb, octopus and calamari dishes you can imagine. Ply yourself with local Greek wine, put your feet up on the railings, and breathe deeply.
As they say, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. For me, the eye-popping effect of these starkly white-washed cliff hugging towns against the matchless backdrop of the Caldera and the Aegean, all from a height that seems miles high, is as good as it gets. Is it perfect? No. Is it close? Oh yes. At this moment, I am sitting on a chaise by our pool staring out at a scaldingly sun-washed sea that, as I say, seems to be miles below. There’s a cool breeze blowing, and even the monstrous cruise ships that lurk in the harbor seem no bigger than toys. They are no threat to us right now. We will enjoy cocktails later as we watch the world-famous sunsets here where the sea takes on hues of pinks and reds and the white facades of these towns turn peach in color. Dinner lies beyond. Somewhere.
I thought that myself until we came to Santorini. The pictures I had seen over the years seemed stunning, but I also knew this place to be a popular tourist mecca -- something that tends to erode great beauty very quickly. Does Santorini have tourists? You bet. Does it have a thousand jewelry, t-shirt, and souvenir shops? Of course. But, all of them combined cannot begin to put a dent in the overwhelming grandeur and sheer mind-bending, breathtaking beauty of this place. Most of the island is a huge rock, but at its western façade, it serves as a fitting foundation for the small, white-washed towns that hug the cliffs along a fantastically sparkling Aegean Sea with views to the horizon so vast and so sweeping you swear you can see the curvature of the earth. The Caldera, as they call it, or the volcanic remains of what was once part of this island, jut out of the sea just enough to give a proper sense of size and distance to this matchless vista and give context to sunsets that are so breathtaking they can make you cry.
The towns of the west coast are a vertical jumble of white-washed buildings and blue-domed churches. They seemingly overlap one another so that from a distance they appear to be one rolling structure. Trying to identify a particular hotel or restaurant from a distance, as you move higher or lower along the aerie-like paths that hug the cliffs, is a game in itself, not entirely unlike “Where’s Waldo.” From the water, the towns and cliffs give all the appearance of snow-capped mountains, the cliffs a deep reddish brown capped by the sea of white buildings on top.
Somewhat like the Amalfi coast in Italy, Santorini’s famed western slope towns are not for the poorly conditioned. Everything is either straight up or straight down. Even getting from our hotel bedroom to our bathroom involved a hike of several steps up and then a steep staircase down. (In the middle of the night, this is not a task taken lightly.) What this presents is an endless opportunity to see everything from different angles -- from above and below -- as you navigate vertically. In one moment you are looking up at a church dome; in the next, you’re taking a picture of the same dome from above.
The alleyways of these towns, notably Fira, and the crown jewel, the achingly beautiful Oia (pronounced Eeya), are almost narrow enough to span with your arms. There are no cars here; there is simply no room. Automobile traffic is relegated to streets inland and to the flatter parts of the island. But, the manner that these alleyways connect, sideways and vertically, give you the feel sometimes that you’ve landed in a life-sized M.C. Escher drawing where all paths seem circular and without resolution.
As in Rhodes, there seem to be cafes and restaurants every nine feet. I have no idea how all of them survive, but I’m told they do. You pay for the view, of course, but mostly that is a price we’re willing to pay. Order your “tomato balls” -- deep-fried tomatoes in a chewy crust -- or deep-fried stuffed olives, or cheese plates, or, for heartier fare all of the beef, lamb, octopus and calamari dishes you can imagine. Ply yourself with local Greek wine, put your feet up on the railings, and breathe deeply.
As they say, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. For me, the eye-popping effect of these starkly white-washed cliff hugging towns against the matchless backdrop of the Caldera and the Aegean, all from a height that seems miles high, is as good as it gets. Is it perfect? No. Is it close? Oh yes. At this moment, I am sitting on a chaise by our pool staring out at a scaldingly sun-washed sea that, as I say, seems to be miles below. There’s a cool breeze blowing, and even the monstrous cruise ships that lurk in the harbor seem no bigger than toys. They are no threat to us right now. We will enjoy cocktails later as we watch the world-famous sunsets here where the sea takes on hues of pinks and reds and the white facades of these towns turn peach in color. Dinner lies beyond. Somewhere.
Rhodes
(September 27-30) We are staying in a hotel whose building dates back 800 years. It begins to tell you the story of this epically historic site which has seen the likes of the Lycians, Romans, Ottoman Turks, English crusaders, and, in more recent times, the Germans, Italians, and Greeks. It lies at the metaphysical and literal crossroads of history and geography as, over the centuries, marauding powers, traders, and crusaders criss-crossed the eastern Mediterranean in pursuit of religious purity, riches, power, or some other greater glory.
One can begin to envision what all this might have looked like way back when, but for the impossibly numerous shops carved into these ancient buildings: jewelry, fine clothing, artwork, leather goods, souvenir emporiums, and t-shirt shops. And, this is to say nothing of the seemingly endless array of rooftop and sidewalk cafes that vie for the tourist dollar at every opportunity. You’ve got your souvlaki, grilled octopus, yogurt, stuffed grape leaves, prawns, all with tomatoes, onion, and parsley and the ever-present and tasty olive. Factor in the waves of folks arriving by cruise ships which dock from time to time, and you have all the ingredients for a shopping and eating frenzy that may have no peers. At some level, this commercial onslaught is insulting given the very serious history of this place. At a lighter level, however, the sensory overload presented by these shops and eateries seems engaging, entertaining, and even comical if you’re in a more relaxed and whimsical mood. Which we were.
We have a safe haven from all this at our hotel, the Sotiris Nikolas, nestled near the western walls of the Old City beyond the rabble. We reach it by a narrow alley whose cobblestones, like those everywhere here, are still impossibly rounded despite centuries of traffic. The Nikolas exudes charm no less than Cary Grant once did with rooms having arched doorways that lead to a protected wooden patio overlooking a rear garden that has enough green to balance out the stone walls that rise above it. The proprietor, Marianne, is of Danish descent, and she is exactly what you want in a hotelier: charming, helpful, funny, obliging at every turn. Breakfasts are up on the roof, and there amid the bountiful offerings of eggs, fruit, pastries, bread, coffee, cheeses (and, yes, olives) lies the city and harbor beyond.
Perfect.
One can begin to envision what all this might have looked like way back when, but for the impossibly numerous shops carved into these ancient buildings: jewelry, fine clothing, artwork, leather goods, souvenir emporiums, and t-shirt shops. And, this is to say nothing of the seemingly endless array of rooftop and sidewalk cafes that vie for the tourist dollar at every opportunity. You’ve got your souvlaki, grilled octopus, yogurt, stuffed grape leaves, prawns, all with tomatoes, onion, and parsley and the ever-present and tasty olive. Factor in the waves of folks arriving by cruise ships which dock from time to time, and you have all the ingredients for a shopping and eating frenzy that may have no peers. At some level, this commercial onslaught is insulting given the very serious history of this place. At a lighter level, however, the sensory overload presented by these shops and eateries seems engaging, entertaining, and even comical if you’re in a more relaxed and whimsical mood. Which we were.
We have a safe haven from all this at our hotel, the Sotiris Nikolas, nestled near the western walls of the Old City beyond the rabble. We reach it by a narrow alley whose cobblestones, like those everywhere here, are still impossibly rounded despite centuries of traffic. The Nikolas exudes charm no less than Cary Grant once did with rooms having arched doorways that lead to a protected wooden patio overlooking a rear garden that has enough green to balance out the stone walls that rise above it. The proprietor, Marianne, is of Danish descent, and she is exactly what you want in a hotelier: charming, helpful, funny, obliging at every turn. Breakfasts are up on the roof, and there amid the bountiful offerings of eggs, fruit, pastries, bread, coffee, cheeses (and, yes, olives) lies the city and harbor beyond.
Perfect.
Aboard the Alaturka
(September 23-26) The Mediterranean is pretty spectacular wherever you find yourself on it, and the southern coastline of Turkey is no exception. The water has none of the turquoise you associate with the tropics, but it does sport an eye-popping sapphire, almost electric, blue. We are aboard the Alaturka, a Turkish “gullet” perhaps better described as a wooden sailing vessel. We are among eleven other passengers: five Aussies (including a couple of newlyweds), two Lithuanians into homeopathic medicine and beekeeping, a female Canadian journalist working for Reuters, three other Americans, one of whom is literally pedaling himself through eastern Europe and Turkey on his trusty but well worn bike, and one non-English speaking Turkish dude, Umete. Except for Umete, we are all united by a common language, a love for travel, and a fondness for storytelling.
What is not to like about this? Nothing, I tell you. We all have “staterooms” below, but they are small enough to test even Clark Kent’s legendary skills at costume changes in small places. And, the bathrooms each of us gets are so microscopically tiny they should issue elbow pads as standard equipment. As a result, all of the action is on deck, including sleeping. I mean, why sleep in a claustrophobe’s hell when you can bed down on commodious pads with your blanket and pillow and fall asleep under the stars? As for day-time activity, I know this sounds stressful, but we eat, drink, swim, nap, read, mingle, and repeat. This cruise is not for the antsy.
I thought the sunset last night was as good as it gets, but I was wrong. This morning’s sunrise was a psychedelic pastiche of neon pinks and blues against a foreground of the steep Turkish hills that slide into the sea, each a different hue of black.
Spectacular.
What is not to like about this? Nothing, I tell you. We all have “staterooms” below, but they are small enough to test even Clark Kent’s legendary skills at costume changes in small places. And, the bathrooms each of us gets are so microscopically tiny they should issue elbow pads as standard equipment. As a result, all of the action is on deck, including sleeping. I mean, why sleep in a claustrophobe’s hell when you can bed down on commodious pads with your blanket and pillow and fall asleep under the stars? As for day-time activity, I know this sounds stressful, but we eat, drink, swim, nap, read, mingle, and repeat. This cruise is not for the antsy.
I thought the sunset last night was as good as it gets, but I was wrong. This morning’s sunrise was a psychedelic pastiche of neon pinks and blues against a foreground of the steep Turkish hills that slide into the sea, each a different hue of black.
Spectacular.
Go and Then Stop. Repeat, and Repeat, and Repeat...
(September 22) Let me make a friendly suggestion. When next you contemplate a dashing, daring adventure far from home, give a thought or two to how logistically crazy it will be to get there. I say this as we board our fourth flight of the day. Count ‘em: one, two, three, four. Don’t ask me what day it is or what time zone we’re in. I haven’t a clue. I do know we’re in Turkey. At this moment, we are awaiting the departure of Flight 2560 on Turkish Airlines from Istanbul to Dalaman, on the country’s southern coast. Charleston feels very far away.
This was a trip planned long ago when we knew we’d barely close out Jesse and Laura’s wedding before having to execute a hairpin turn within 36 hours to ready ourselves for this wonderful adventure to Turkey and Greece. We knew it would be a long journey, but knowing and doing are two different things. Why is that?
Up at 7 to see Alex off for his return to San Diego, we later make it ourselves to the Charleston airport. One hour wait here. One flight of one and a half hours. Arrive in Philadelphia. A three hour wait here. One eight hour flight to Frankfort, Germany. In Frankfort for four hours. One three hour flight to Istanbul. Wait in Istanbul for two hours. Finally, a two and a half hour flight to Dalaman. Let’s run the numbers, shall we? Ten hours waiting in airports, fourteen hours in the air. That’s a day, right?
Somewhere before Frankfort, I lost my train of thought. I think somewhere between Frankfort and Istanbul I lost my ability to reason. In Istanbul, I lost the ability to speak coherently. Will I remember my name when we land in Dalaman? I am clutching our two passports with whitened knuckles lest I leave them in some godforsaken restroom.
I’m not complaining, mind you. I can’t wait to reach our destination and get the trip rolling. I’ll rally, whatever my name is.
But, right now, fatigue rules.
This was a trip planned long ago when we knew we’d barely close out Jesse and Laura’s wedding before having to execute a hairpin turn within 36 hours to ready ourselves for this wonderful adventure to Turkey and Greece. We knew it would be a long journey, but knowing and doing are two different things. Why is that?
Up at 7 to see Alex off for his return to San Diego, we later make it ourselves to the Charleston airport. One hour wait here. One flight of one and a half hours. Arrive in Philadelphia. A three hour wait here. One eight hour flight to Frankfort, Germany. In Frankfort for four hours. One three hour flight to Istanbul. Wait in Istanbul for two hours. Finally, a two and a half hour flight to Dalaman. Let’s run the numbers, shall we? Ten hours waiting in airports, fourteen hours in the air. That’s a day, right?
Somewhere before Frankfort, I lost my train of thought. I think somewhere between Frankfort and Istanbul I lost my ability to reason. In Istanbul, I lost the ability to speak coherently. Will I remember my name when we land in Dalaman? I am clutching our two passports with whitened knuckles lest I leave them in some godforsaken restroom.
I’m not complaining, mind you. I can’t wait to reach our destination and get the trip rolling. I’ll rally, whatever my name is.
But, right now, fatigue rules.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
The Ceremony
On September 19, Jesse and Laura got married. Here is the ceremony that I prepared for them......
I’d like to welcome all of you to this wonderful celebration we’re having today. I have to tell you, I find it both amazing and incredibly heartwarming not just to see so many familiar faces, but to realize the distances -- in many cases, great distances -- that so many of you have traveled just to be here. We have folks here from Mississippi, of course, but also Louisiana, Colorado, California, Oregon, Florida, Massachusetts, New York, Ohio, Illinois, Maryland, Virginia, Washington D.C., Delaware, North Carolina, and, yes, even a few from South Carolina. Have I left anyone out? I want to thank all of you for taking the time, for making the effort, to be here and sharing in what is obviously a very special day for us.
Before we proceed, may I ask please who is presenting the bride? Thank you John; thank you Gail.
Laura and Jesse, imagine meeting you here today. Who would have thought even just a few short years ago that one day the three of us would be standing right here right now like this? But, here we are. And, what an extraordinary day it is. I suspect everyone here, if asked, could describe for you in vivid detail the most special days in their lives, but, speaking for myself, I can tell you that there are precious few of them where we can honestly say that we find ourselves surrounded by all of the most important people in our lives: Your family, your friends -- all the people through whom no doubt you can trace every significant step (and misstep) you have taken along the way. There are some people here today who know you as no one else does. They know your strengths, your weaknesses, your idiosyncrasies, your history, your secrets. And, they love you. So, as I say, days like this don’t come along very often. Enjoy these moments and remember them.
I know your relationship started seven or so years ago as a dating one. But, I seem to recall that at some point fairly early on, you deepened that relationship by becoming good friends as well. You learned to trust each other, to rely on each other, and to look out for one another. Essentially, you began the process of becoming partners in each other’s lives. Believe me, I know there were no shortages of parties and good times in those years, but all of us here also know that since those days the two of you have gotten down to the business of sharing your lives together when it’s not all parties and good times. You now know what it is to pay the bills, to put food on the table, to share in day-to-day responsibilities, and to ride out stressful times. You also know what it is to make plans with a keen eye on each other’s likes and dislikes, not just your own fancies. And, yet, through all of this, you have remained sure of each other’s feelings and, best of all… you have remained happy. The trust the two of you have built up in one another is not something you get automatically by simply signing a marriage license; you have to earn it. And, each of you has done just that.
Jesse -- I know you will recall the steady drumbeat of advice you got from us when you were growing up, especially from your mom: don’t you dare get married before you turn 30, we said. We told you that you really don’t know who you are until then; we told you that you would evolve and grow and that your tastes and values at age 30 will bear little resemblance to those you had at age 20. So -- if you don’t know who you are, how can you expect to go about the business of successfully selecting a partner for life? You remember that, right?
Well, Jess, it’s not that we were wrong, not really. We thought that was sensible advice. What we hadn’t counted on… was Laura. Laura, as you know, you have long since become a part of our family. I sometimes feel as if we have literally traveled the globe with you, from Europe to Costa Rica to Indonesia. I don’t remember when it happened exactly, but at some point Lily and I stopped being “ma’am” and “sir” and we became just plain old “Lily” and “Jeff.” And, I have to tell you how delighted we are in the evolution of our relationship with you.
But, apart from our travels with you, Laura, you and Jesse have truly traveled the world as very few ever get to do --- from Africa, to Europe, to Central and South America, and to Southeast Asia. Those have been amazing times for you both, but I also suspect they were testing times for you as well. You don’t need me to tell you that oftentimes, when you’re traveling under less than the best conditions -- something the two of you know a little something about -- qualities such as patience and tolerance are not the ones that always come to the fore so easily. To me, then, what made your travels so special was not just that they enabled you to learn more about each other, but they enabled you to strengthen a relationship that was already strong. Best of all, they enabled you both to envision a future together as well. That’s why I’m thinking that among the many, many irreplaceable memories each of you have of those journeys are not just the destinations you reached, but memories of how you traveled together as well. Somewhere down those roads, Laura, you not only wowed Lily and me, but, far more importantly, you wowed the fellow standing next to you today.
So, Jesse, here we are today seeing you getting married at age 27 and not 30, which means, Laura, that I can say to you that, in your wonderfully disarming fashion, you pretty much singlehandedly shattered one of the basic parenting lessons we had for both Jesse and Alex. And, I am here to tell you how happy we are that you did...this one time. And, Jesse, how happy we are that you so totally ignored our advice...this one time.
I think what I’m going to say to you here may sound a little trite, Laura, but I promise you that is not my intention. Your bright, sunshiny disposition just makes things better. Your graciousness and your generosity are of a sort that simply cannot be manufactured. You are truly genuine. Gail and John -- I have to tell you, you’ve done good here. You have raised an amazing daughter. Indeed, if I may say so, you have raised three amazing daughters. And, Laura, just as we have come to embrace you, so has your family embraced Jesse both as a son and a brother. From Jackson to Pickwick, you and your family have always made Jesse feel relaxed, comfortable, and loved. And, for that, Lily and I are truly forever grateful.
Jesse -- the personal growth you have shown over the past several years has been simply stunning to me. I can say this, of course, because, as your father, I am hopelessly and irretrievably biased. I raise this issue here only because it sheds light, in part, on why we believe your future with Laura is so promising. You know, Jess, there was a time in your life when your inclination was “to go it alone” and when you would engage in decision-making essentially by falling back on your own instincts, really to the exclusion of everything and everyone else. I can say honestly that is simply no longer the case. Not from what I’ve seen. What you have gained is a measure of humility and, in my book, it is humility that is a basic building block in any enduring relationship. You have learned to learn from others and to trust their judgments alongside your own. Nowhere is this more in evidence, Jess, than in your relationship with Laura. Just judging from our own conversations in recent months when we‘ve talked about your life plans, your goals, your aspirations, I am struck by how mindful you are of Laura’s happiness, not just your own. And, I have to tell you, this is a wonderful omen.
You will recall that some months ago I asked each of you if you would share with me what you believe you have learned from one another. Jesse, you told me that because of Laura’s influence in your life, you are now more patient, more tolerant, more mature. You say you see yourself now as a far better person since Laura entered your life, and those of us who know you best see how much easier it is for you now to get outside that once stoic exterior and express your feelings more openly. Essentially, Jesse, Laura has begun the process of opening you up, and how wonderful is that?
Laura, you told me that because of Jesse you are now far more adventurous and that you see yourself as a far more independent and confident person than you have ever been in your life. You told me also, Laura, that because of Jesse you now strive for better things in your life. These are amazing qualities to learn from one another. What you don’t know -- indeed, what you cannot know yet -- is that as each of you continue to grow and as you continue to share your strengths with one another, each of you will grow in ways you cannot possibly imagine. And, I dare say, they will all be for the good.
I’m a little bit older than the two of you, and I only have the floor for another minute, so, if I may, I’d like to offer a few of my own suggestions to you: be kind to each other, be generous with each other, laugh with each other, listen to each other, and remember that while it is so important for each of you to maintain your own separate identities in this relationship, remember also that whereas you were once two, you are now one. Think that way. I’m smiling as I say these things to you because I know you know these things; I know you understand them, and I know you try to practice them. I’m also smiling because as a father, and a father-in-law, nothing could possibly make me any happier.
I know the two of you have vows you would like to exchange, so, if you would, please turn toward each other and repeat after me.
Jesse: I, Jesse, take thee Laura to be my wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better – for worse, for richer – for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.
Laura: I, Laura, take thee Jesse to be my husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better – for worse, for richer – for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.
May I have the rings, please?
Jesse, please repeat after me: Laura, accept this ring, and with it my promise of faith, patience, and love, for the rest of my life.
And Laura: Jesse, accept this ring, and with it my promise of faith, patience, and love, for the rest of my life.
Jesse and Laura -- In the spirit of God, and with the hopes and wishes of your family and friends, may the happiness you feel at this moment stay with you the rest of your lives. By the authority vested in me by the State of South Carolina, I now pronounce you husband and wife.
Jesse -- You may kiss the bride
Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present to you for the first time, Jesse and Laura Golland!
Epilogue
When I was getting dressed for the ceremony, I reached into my bureau looking for a nice watch to wear for the occasion. What I came across was a watch belonging to my father, a watch that had not been worn for the 24 years since his death. I put it on. Lying next to it was my mother’s wedding ring, untouched since her passing 18 years ago. I picked it up and put it in my pocket. I felt like I was in a circle now completed. I felt whole.
In the ceremony, I said to Jesse and Laura that this would be one of the most special days in their lives. What I had not realized, but soon did, is that this proved to be one of the most special days in my life as well. Surrounded by almost all of the most important people in my life and Lily’s -- family and friends -- and feeling the good will, support and love coming from all, I knew this would signal a moment that would be with me forever. Thank you, Jesse. Thank you, Laura. I love you both so much.
I’d like to welcome all of you to this wonderful celebration we’re having today. I have to tell you, I find it both amazing and incredibly heartwarming not just to see so many familiar faces, but to realize the distances -- in many cases, great distances -- that so many of you have traveled just to be here. We have folks here from Mississippi, of course, but also Louisiana, Colorado, California, Oregon, Florida, Massachusetts, New York, Ohio, Illinois, Maryland, Virginia, Washington D.C., Delaware, North Carolina, and, yes, even a few from South Carolina. Have I left anyone out? I want to thank all of you for taking the time, for making the effort, to be here and sharing in what is obviously a very special day for us.
Before we proceed, may I ask please who is presenting the bride? Thank you John; thank you Gail.
Laura and Jesse, imagine meeting you here today. Who would have thought even just a few short years ago that one day the three of us would be standing right here right now like this? But, here we are. And, what an extraordinary day it is. I suspect everyone here, if asked, could describe for you in vivid detail the most special days in their lives, but, speaking for myself, I can tell you that there are precious few of them where we can honestly say that we find ourselves surrounded by all of the most important people in our lives: Your family, your friends -- all the people through whom no doubt you can trace every significant step (and misstep) you have taken along the way. There are some people here today who know you as no one else does. They know your strengths, your weaknesses, your idiosyncrasies, your history, your secrets. And, they love you. So, as I say, days like this don’t come along very often. Enjoy these moments and remember them.
I know your relationship started seven or so years ago as a dating one. But, I seem to recall that at some point fairly early on, you deepened that relationship by becoming good friends as well. You learned to trust each other, to rely on each other, and to look out for one another. Essentially, you began the process of becoming partners in each other’s lives. Believe me, I know there were no shortages of parties and good times in those years, but all of us here also know that since those days the two of you have gotten down to the business of sharing your lives together when it’s not all parties and good times. You now know what it is to pay the bills, to put food on the table, to share in day-to-day responsibilities, and to ride out stressful times. You also know what it is to make plans with a keen eye on each other’s likes and dislikes, not just your own fancies. And, yet, through all of this, you have remained sure of each other’s feelings and, best of all… you have remained happy. The trust the two of you have built up in one another is not something you get automatically by simply signing a marriage license; you have to earn it. And, each of you has done just that.
Jesse -- I know you will recall the steady drumbeat of advice you got from us when you were growing up, especially from your mom: don’t you dare get married before you turn 30, we said. We told you that you really don’t know who you are until then; we told you that you would evolve and grow and that your tastes and values at age 30 will bear little resemblance to those you had at age 20. So -- if you don’t know who you are, how can you expect to go about the business of successfully selecting a partner for life? You remember that, right?
Well, Jess, it’s not that we were wrong, not really. We thought that was sensible advice. What we hadn’t counted on… was Laura. Laura, as you know, you have long since become a part of our family. I sometimes feel as if we have literally traveled the globe with you, from Europe to Costa Rica to Indonesia. I don’t remember when it happened exactly, but at some point Lily and I stopped being “ma’am” and “sir” and we became just plain old “Lily” and “Jeff.” And, I have to tell you how delighted we are in the evolution of our relationship with you.
But, apart from our travels with you, Laura, you and Jesse have truly traveled the world as very few ever get to do --- from Africa, to Europe, to Central and South America, and to Southeast Asia. Those have been amazing times for you both, but I also suspect they were testing times for you as well. You don’t need me to tell you that oftentimes, when you’re traveling under less than the best conditions -- something the two of you know a little something about -- qualities such as patience and tolerance are not the ones that always come to the fore so easily. To me, then, what made your travels so special was not just that they enabled you to learn more about each other, but they enabled you to strengthen a relationship that was already strong. Best of all, they enabled you both to envision a future together as well. That’s why I’m thinking that among the many, many irreplaceable memories each of you have of those journeys are not just the destinations you reached, but memories of how you traveled together as well. Somewhere down those roads, Laura, you not only wowed Lily and me, but, far more importantly, you wowed the fellow standing next to you today.
So, Jesse, here we are today seeing you getting married at age 27 and not 30, which means, Laura, that I can say to you that, in your wonderfully disarming fashion, you pretty much singlehandedly shattered one of the basic parenting lessons we had for both Jesse and Alex. And, I am here to tell you how happy we are that you did...this one time. And, Jesse, how happy we are that you so totally ignored our advice...this one time.
I think what I’m going to say to you here may sound a little trite, Laura, but I promise you that is not my intention. Your bright, sunshiny disposition just makes things better. Your graciousness and your generosity are of a sort that simply cannot be manufactured. You are truly genuine. Gail and John -- I have to tell you, you’ve done good here. You have raised an amazing daughter. Indeed, if I may say so, you have raised three amazing daughters. And, Laura, just as we have come to embrace you, so has your family embraced Jesse both as a son and a brother. From Jackson to Pickwick, you and your family have always made Jesse feel relaxed, comfortable, and loved. And, for that, Lily and I are truly forever grateful.
Jesse -- the personal growth you have shown over the past several years has been simply stunning to me. I can say this, of course, because, as your father, I am hopelessly and irretrievably biased. I raise this issue here only because it sheds light, in part, on why we believe your future with Laura is so promising. You know, Jess, there was a time in your life when your inclination was “to go it alone” and when you would engage in decision-making essentially by falling back on your own instincts, really to the exclusion of everything and everyone else. I can say honestly that is simply no longer the case. Not from what I’ve seen. What you have gained is a measure of humility and, in my book, it is humility that is a basic building block in any enduring relationship. You have learned to learn from others and to trust their judgments alongside your own. Nowhere is this more in evidence, Jess, than in your relationship with Laura. Just judging from our own conversations in recent months when we‘ve talked about your life plans, your goals, your aspirations, I am struck by how mindful you are of Laura’s happiness, not just your own. And, I have to tell you, this is a wonderful omen.
You will recall that some months ago I asked each of you if you would share with me what you believe you have learned from one another. Jesse, you told me that because of Laura’s influence in your life, you are now more patient, more tolerant, more mature. You say you see yourself now as a far better person since Laura entered your life, and those of us who know you best see how much easier it is for you now to get outside that once stoic exterior and express your feelings more openly. Essentially, Jesse, Laura has begun the process of opening you up, and how wonderful is that?
Laura, you told me that because of Jesse you are now far more adventurous and that you see yourself as a far more independent and confident person than you have ever been in your life. You told me also, Laura, that because of Jesse you now strive for better things in your life. These are amazing qualities to learn from one another. What you don’t know -- indeed, what you cannot know yet -- is that as each of you continue to grow and as you continue to share your strengths with one another, each of you will grow in ways you cannot possibly imagine. And, I dare say, they will all be for the good.
I’m a little bit older than the two of you, and I only have the floor for another minute, so, if I may, I’d like to offer a few of my own suggestions to you: be kind to each other, be generous with each other, laugh with each other, listen to each other, and remember that while it is so important for each of you to maintain your own separate identities in this relationship, remember also that whereas you were once two, you are now one. Think that way. I’m smiling as I say these things to you because I know you know these things; I know you understand them, and I know you try to practice them. I’m also smiling because as a father, and a father-in-law, nothing could possibly make me any happier.
I know the two of you have vows you would like to exchange, so, if you would, please turn toward each other and repeat after me.
Jesse: I, Jesse, take thee Laura to be my wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better – for worse, for richer – for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.
Laura: I, Laura, take thee Jesse to be my husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better – for worse, for richer – for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.
May I have the rings, please?
Jesse, please repeat after me: Laura, accept this ring, and with it my promise of faith, patience, and love, for the rest of my life.
And Laura: Jesse, accept this ring, and with it my promise of faith, patience, and love, for the rest of my life.
Jesse and Laura -- In the spirit of God, and with the hopes and wishes of your family and friends, may the happiness you feel at this moment stay with you the rest of your lives. By the authority vested in me by the State of South Carolina, I now pronounce you husband and wife.
Jesse -- You may kiss the bride
Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present to you for the first time, Jesse and Laura Golland!
Epilogue
When I was getting dressed for the ceremony, I reached into my bureau looking for a nice watch to wear for the occasion. What I came across was a watch belonging to my father, a watch that had not been worn for the 24 years since his death. I put it on. Lying next to it was my mother’s wedding ring, untouched since her passing 18 years ago. I picked it up and put it in my pocket. I felt like I was in a circle now completed. I felt whole.
In the ceremony, I said to Jesse and Laura that this would be one of the most special days in their lives. What I had not realized, but soon did, is that this proved to be one of the most special days in my life as well. Surrounded by almost all of the most important people in my life and Lily’s -- family and friends -- and feeling the good will, support and love coming from all, I knew this would signal a moment that would be with me forever. Thank you, Jesse. Thank you, Laura. I love you both so much.
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