Life in First Class

We have already established how I feel about weddings on holiday weekends so you can imagine my chagrin when I was invited to one such event held this past Memorial Day weekend. When the invitation arrived I felt confidently "off the hook" as the wedding was in Nashville. Case closed, right?

Wrong.  The bride's doting uncles wanted me along for the ride - and the fun - and proposed an all expense paid trip to "Nash-Vegas" for the wedding.  First-class airfare, hotel and EVERYTHING.  How can you say no to THAT?  I sure as hell could not  so I decadently packed a whole suitcase (not having to share space with Joe!) and learned the ways of First Class air travel.  It was like a dream.

The first stop was priority check in where I checked my big honkin' suitcase.... with no fee.  Walked down to the boarding area carrying my only my ticket and a big purse. Boarded first.  Sat in the first row (all 4 segments).  Was treated with courtesy and offered my choice of beverages and nibbles. (Sidebar - I don't drink on airplanes. Bummer.) (Sidebar II - I can't pee on airplanes. Seriously. TMI, I know. )

As a  25 year veteran of flying steerage I found the entire experience A-MAY-ZING. The worst, most hated part of taking a trip became positively pleasant. It made me think back to the long ago days when EVERYONE could check a bag - nay, 2 - without a charge.  When seats and spacing between rows was reasonable. When you could climb in and out of your coach seat without the use of WD-40, a crowbar and a colon compactor.

[caption id="attachment_2601" align="alignleft" width="300"] First Class Hat - Purchased in Nashville![/caption]

I am sure  my next trip will be absolutely miserable by comparison. I resent that. I don't expect the First Class experience with what I can afford but there were  aspects of this trip that were once commonplace to those of us who routinely do the walk-of-shame past the First Class passengers on our way back to the goat pens.

I don't fly much anymore because flying has become such an ORDEAL.  I never fly to New York anymore, I take the train. I'll take a train anywhere, even if it costs more and takes longer.  It's worth it. It is worth it in civility, personal space and fees.  It is especially worth it since you don't have to deal with nimrod TSA agents with a power complex.

The wedding?  The service was lovely and the bride stunningly beautiful. (She spent 2 summers here and I was the pseudo-Aunt).  The soloist sang Schubert's "Ave Maria" which usually reduces me to tears but since she totally American Idol'd it I was left more annoyed than moved. ( Luckily I managed to restrain myself and not stand up and beat a tempo on my leg and yell, "knock off the Mariah Carey shit, girl.")  When Laura came up the aisle on the arm of her Dad I flashed back to my own dear Dad taking that walk with me......and I burst into tears.  Bark-like-a-seal tears. Whatever.   Oh yes, do let me report that  Nashville had RECORD HIGH TEMPS the entire weekend and the reception was not air-conditioned.  Jeebus.  We survived, it was wonderful fun and we all had a fabulous time.  Nashville is a blast - I highly recommend a visit but do it in October or November.....

Deja Vu All Over Again

I was married back in 1988, the days of big hair and wide lapels.  You have no control over the styles of the day, you're just stuck with what is in vogue.  (I'm still feeling bad for the Leisure Suit weddings of the 70's .....).  Regular readers already know  I have an aversion to weddings, frou frou, and the parade of BS that tends to come along with them.  Even back then  I made choices about our wedding that many would think appalling.  Didn't care then, don't care now.

I came from a big family in the Midwest; the contingent of first cousins on my mother's side numbered about 56 when Grandma McGill died in the early seventies.  By 1988  those cousins had married and multiplied.  (We had a standing joke about having to marry an orphan so we could fit everyone in to the church.)  Rather than going home and having the wedding on my home turf   (as most brides would want)  I opted to get married in Gloucester  to cut down on the numbers.   Seriously.  I wanted a small wedding and my pre-husband promised me he wanted the same.

NOTE: The Sicilian definition of a "small wedding"  is not even remotely close to the Midwestern definition.  We ended up with 140 people, about 100 more than I wanted.

During the planning Joe informed me he had 4 ushers and his brother, Sam, would be his best man.  I gave that the green light, knowing that my two sisters would be my attendants .   (Even then I did not want to responsible for another  parade of badly dressed bridesmaids.)  As the wedding got closer  I asked Joe who his other groomsman would be.  Groomsman?  What is that?  I explained that Pat and Peg each need a groomsman.  Sam would be one and  - who would be the other?

NOTE: Ushers and groomsmen are not synonymous, damnit. Ushers ush - they escort guests and seat them in the church.  Groomsmen escort the bridesmaids. Period. Apparently this is a geographical thing, but ushers at a funeral don't escort bridesmaids at a funeral now do they. Just sayin'.

We had a pretty good fight over this one,  Joe insisting I get more bridesmaids and I insisted he cut loose a few ushers.  It was ugly.  We did not compromise.  (Irish VS.  Sicilian? Are you kidding me?) so during the wedding procession  those four ushers marched solemnly up the aisle looking for all the world like a group of  freakin' pallbearers.

But I digress.

I had a very hard time finding bridesmaid dresses.  I love my sisters and didn't want them wearing some gacky, overpriced  polyester fluff.   Back then I  was in love with polished cotton chintz  but could find nothing even remotely close in a bridesmaid dress.  I chose to do what any woman who has read Gone With The Wind 20 times ( a conservative estimate ) would do -  I went to a great fabric store  and found a lovely Waverley floral chintz.  LOVED it.  Bought a bunch of it, found a dress pattern, mailed it back home to a girlfriend and she sewed up the dresses for my sisters.  In an interesting twist on Scarlett O'Hara,  I made curtains for our main floor powder room out of the remnants.  ( I love balance in the universe. )

Fast forward to a fundraiser last weekend.  The  Text and Textile Extravaganza is a great way for quilters to manicure their stash and then take home more than they manicured.  For a small donation to the museum, you fill up a shopping tote with zillions of fabrics. (It's a little like getting fabric drunk.) I was working on the home dec fabrics when I pulled out some neatly folded yardage that looked.....VERY familiar.  It was Waverley Garden Tour AND  in the exact same color run.  I let out a yelp and modeled it for all the women present. Needless to say I tucked it into my tote bag-o-stash builders and brought it safely home.  Since we're re-doing the upstairs bathroom I will need fabric for curtains, right?  The walls are going to be one of the greens in the print  so it will already match beautifully.  I'm not that crazy about Waverley Garden Tour now, but I absolutely cannot resist a second round of bridesmaid dress bathroom curtains.  Even my husband thought it was pretty funny, and like  Yogi Berra said,  " It's  deja vu all over again!"

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