Minor Miracles

I’m on the plane flying back from Pennsylvania.  My Thanksgiving vacation was spent in preparation for the wedding of a close friend.  I think I’m now to the point in my reflections, that I can tell you the stories now.  (And besides, I’m not going anywhere for at least another hour and a half, so I need to find some way to occupy my time.

I left early in the morning on Tuesday to go to the airport.  I made it to the airport in plenty of time, as is my custom, and proceeded to catch my flights with no major incidents, which as anyone can tell you this time of year, is quite an accomplishment.  I flew first to Minneapolis where I caught another plane to Pittsburgh.

When I got on the ground in Pittsburgh, I collected my bags and then rented a car.  I would have had to have waited at the airport if I hadn’t rented one, and there is a big part of me that requires my journeying to be completed as soon as possible, or I get nervous like a drug dealer at a law enforcement conference.  That being said, I sorted through the options, and decided to go through Enterprise.  All the vehicles seemed to me to be priced approximately the same, and I figured since I saw more of those “e” things on the back of cars, they might be the most used kind.  So, I packed up my rental car, and sped down the road toward my destination:  Bedford, PA.

The only difficulties?  The frustration of dealing with the roads in Pittsburgh at rush hour, and the lack of any music worth listening to on the radio.  I solved the latter problem by a quick stop at the local Best Buy.   (As a side note, do yourself a favor and pick up the new U2 cd.  Seriously.)  The former, I just had to tough out.  After finally creeping down I-376 East, I made my way to the Pennsylvania Turnpike, where I promptly started going the wrong direction and had to wait 20 minutes before I could find an exit to turn around.  After the exit, I made my way safely to Bedford.

When I woke up on Wednesday morning, I met with the bridal party and the families of the folks involved, and we putzed around for a while.  That evening, we went on the bachelor party.  It is at this point that things became somewhat convoluted.  The groom, you see, is from Australia, and the other two groomsman were also from Down Under, one by way of Scotland, and the other by way of London.  Apparently, it is a tradition in all of these countries to call the bachelor party, “the bucks party,” and to dress up the groom in ridiculous attire and then take him around to the local establishments.  I was not originally for the plan they suggested, but I warmed to the idea eventually.  My primary problem was that the attire they suggested for the groom was a red dress very much akin to what you might see a 19th century barmaid wear:  red velvet and black lace trim.  By the time they got the groom into the dress and added all the necessary effects (I don’t want to say much about this, but if the groom were a real woman, he’d have had serious back problems), we drove to a nearby town to subject him to his embarrassment. 

I’ve never seen faces like the ones the people of Johnstown sported last Wednesday evening.  The faces ranged from amusement to anger to shock.  Their countenances didn’t improve much when we started asking people to pose in pictures with the groom.  The game finally ended when we went into a place and realized that if we asked any of them for pictures, we’d have gotten the groom beat up.  So, we finished the evening and returned home.  All was well with the world. 

I awakened on Thanksgiving and went to the bride’s mothers house for Thanksgiving dinner.  The hospitality the bride’s family showed in inviting a bunch of out-of-towners and foreigners to their home for the meal was incredible, and so was the food.  All told, the day was quite relaxing.  That evening, we packed up the troops and went to Altoona to watch The Incredibles.  I found it thoroughly amusing, and remarkably insightful about Western culture for a children’s movie.  (I’ll save that rant for another time.)  Again, at the end of a long day, we returned back to the hotel and I slept the sleep of the weary.

Friday was a day spent in preparation for the wedding, with multiple trips made between the bride’s house and the church and both of the locations and the town of Altoona, the nearest with any retail stores of any kind.  I made several trips to Altoona, which suited me just fine, because I rented the car so I could get to see Pennsylvania, and also because I love to drive.  I find it quite relaxing.  At any rate, that evening, we had the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner.  By this time, the groomsman had bonded and the rehearsal became highly amusing to us and to those present.  By the time we retired to the rehearsal dinner, it was obvious we were probably the “personality” of the group.  (I put it that way as a means of being as kind to the three of us as possible.)  And again, I retired, driving from the church to the hotel.

Saturday, after the morning church service, we got dressed for the wedding and then successfully traversed the ceremony, marrying off two of my friends to one another in a most satisfying ceremony and time of celebration.  Then the groomsman and one of the groomsmans wives hopped into the car and we proceeded to the reception.

At the reception, the microphone was opened up to the guests, and many of them got their say.  I think my personal favorite was the older gentleman who stood up and professed that after 58 years of marriage, he could honestly say that it was better at the time he spoke than when they were first married.  If I hadn’t been sitting at the head table, I would have probably had to excuse myself and go weep for a while.  It was a beautiful picture of a faithful couple who never ceased to find the joy in loving and serving one another.  It is a picture I will surely carry with me for a long while.  Perhaps the most touching thing about the entire thing was that the wife of the man sat quietly behind him, touching her husbands side, and weeping tears of joy at the acknowledgment.  I’m getting kind of misty thinking about it now.  The reception was a success, and after we finished, we headed back to the church, about 15 miles away to replace the church to its original state before we arrived.  (We had to move some things to make room for the wedding party—it is a small church.)

So, the four of us hopped in the car and headed back in the direction of the church.  We never made it there.  You see, it had rained just briefly, and it was near freezing, and we were on a steep mountain road.  At one point, on a sharp turn, I was going about 15 or so, and I turned the steering wheel, and nothing happened.  I hit the brakes, and again, nothing.  We slid through the turn and into a fair sized ravine that was perhaps 4 or so feet deep.  The car was at approximately a 45 degree angle, and I was freaking out inwardly.  The car was rented.  After we got everyone out of the car safely (and thank the Lord everyone was alright), I started thinki

ng about what I was about to face in terms of “I told you so’s” from the people who told me not to bother with renting a car, the money and insurance issues involved, and host of other less than pleasant things, among them the way the bride and groom would have felt had they discovered I’d been in an accident.  We got help quickly and called a wrecker and the State Police, and they proceeded to pull us out.  The entire time I watched the car in the ravine, I was basically freaking out.  It hadn’t sounded real pleasant as we went into the ditch, as you might well imagine, and I was afraid there might be financial and legal consequences for the accident.  The officer arrived as well as the tow truck, and as I stood there with the best man in the freezing drizzle, they pulled the car out the ditch, only to reveal one small scratch and slightly dinged up alignment in the front, probably more a product of the wrecker than the accident itself.  I drove the car back to the hotel and awaited this morning to see what the kind folks at Enterprise had to say.

I was a little worried, but I had some comfort, because I’d purchased the insurance at the airport on Tuesday when I rented the car.  The guy asked me if I wanted it, and I actually remarked, “you know, the one time I didn’t do it would be the time I got in the accident—you better sign me up.”  Thank the Lord for that guy.  Seriously.  At any rate, I called them this morning and they basically told it wasn’t a big deal because I had the insurance and that I should drive it back to the airport.  Easy enough.  And I was worried.  Basically, I filled out a single form, and that was it.  I didn’t get a ticket.   I don’t have to worry about it going to my insurance.  I don’t have to worry about a blessed thing.  Not bad, eh?  So, I’m feeling pretty lucky right now as I sit here on this plane.  (Wait, is that a jinx?  I hope the plane doesn’t crash.)

Anyways, it was a pleasant weekend.  The story part is complete, now on to the other thoughts I have about my time in Pennsylvania.

(Editor’s Note:  The plane didn’t crash.  Lucky me.)