Wedding

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The Wells Wedding

Fall is nearly here, and with it comes my yearly reflection on the summer months – the time when I invariably failed to regularly update this site. Which really commemorates the even more time-honored traits of procrastination and sloth, which have been part of the Pratt repertoire (or reprattoire, if you prefer) for a little over 25 years now (it’s our silver anniversary!).

This summer started with a sputter, finding me attending the occasional Portland Beavers game, renting movies here and there, and exploring Portland via Max. In all, it was relaxing, which was needed after what has been a year of essentially one family tragedy after another. Things sped up quick in July, with Wells’ bachelor party and subsequent wedding. The bachelor party was held at Safeco Field in Seattle, where about twenty of us pitched in to rent a luxury suite for a Saturday evening game against the Baltimore Orioles, narrowly missing Rafael Palmeiro’s 3000th career hit, which would have been great to witness, especially since that was in the days when we all simply thought he was on the juice. The evening was filled with memorable moments, from Miller’s antics to the appearance of the Moose, who subsequently mauled Wells, to a game winning RBI single by Mike Morse in the bottom of the ninth (himself a ‘roid casualty by early September). Most importantly, it was our formal send-off of Wells into the married world.

The actual send-off came July 23, 2005, when Wells married girlfriend Jessica on the grounds of her family’s ranch in central Oregon. I took a week off from work the week of the wedding, hanging out with Miller for the first few days before traveling with Wells and his cousin Jaeger to Redmond to help with setting up the wedding and reception site. It was a beautiful ceremony, with the backdrop of a canyon during the ceremony, and with the Three Sisters of the Cascade Range serving as background for the reception. As best man, it was my duty to eat my prime rib in the seat to Wells’ immediate left at the reception, as well as stumble through an ad-libbed toast to couple’s new life together, making delicate jabs at Wells’ many foibles over the years, while trying not to disparage him too much in front of the people who now found him to be a member of their family. I think I did ok, but I can really only remember bits and pieces of what I said. On the bright side, I didn’t freeze under the pressure, nor did I cry, so that’s always a plus.

A vacuum of sorts appeared in the wake of the wedding, and August was dedicated mostly to relaxation when not at work. I was able to get in some much-delayed reading, as well as a little writing – the fruits of this work will likely appear here in the next month or so, after some fine-tuning.

So after a brief August slumber, September is here, and with it comes one of the most eagerly anticipated happenings of the year – Oregon Ducks football. I once again have my season tickets (courtesy of my mom… I imagine I will someday have to actually spend money on tickets…). Through three games, all is seemingly good, with the Ducks undefeated, but staring tenuously at the upcoming home contest against USC, which has evolved into what is simply the most dominant college football program in decades. I will be in attendance this Saturday, expecting the outcome that most level-minded analysts are predicting, but hoping for another Michigan-like miracle, that is as long as Sports Illustrated promises not to put Oregon on its cover if the unthinkable happens.

In other news, after a false start last year, I am actually serious now about trying to buy a home. I am having a lender look into what I can be approved for, and hopefully, if all goes well, I will have a home of my own by December, when my current lease will expire. Hopefully, I will know what I can realistically spend within the next week or so – from there, the search should come to life. Currently, I’m looking as far west as Newberg, south to Woodburn, and north and east to their prospective sections of Portland. I guess we’ll see if anything turns up.

That’s it for now. As always, I’ll work on updating more regularly, but again, I probably won’t…

Wedding with Lauren

On Saturday I went to Roseburg for Vicki’s wedding. Along the way, I acquired a Lauren for company. It was quite fun, as she turned out to be a good conversation partner- something sorely needed following a nearly two and a half hour trip from McMinnville to Eugene.

However, we must not forget the important event of the weekend- Vicky must now obey and serve Ben, as stated in the church-certified contractual agreement to which we bore witness.

It was an overall nice ceremony, though not exactly the type that I would choose for my wedding. But the important thing is that the couple seemed genuinely happy, which in the end is all that you can ask for. Following the reception, Lauren and I took our time travelling up I-5, eventually stopping at a drive-in cafe. There we ordered ice cream and gazed with amazement at the proliferation of gay youth.

It was everywhere, but no amount of school-sanctioned homosexuality could taint the overall pleasant feeling of a sunny day and singing along to songs from “Please Please Me”; nor could it foul the taste of my espresso madness (which was delicious).

That aside, it is days like these that tend to leave a lasting impression on me. For instance, while reflecting on the day’s happenings on my drive home, I couldn’t help but think of my own life and loves both past and present. However, these thoughts were interrupted by what I can only describe as a striking sunset. The sky was filled with a palette of colors, from a rich purple in the east to a glimmering orange in the west, creating a perfect silhouette of the coast range and offering only a glimpse of light to the few clouds that remained above. It was one of those moments in a western where you know that the good guy had won, or that the story was simply over. At the same time, it was a sight that if not seen by eyes that had experience the day, could have easily been mistaken for an equally striking sunrise. At once, everything seemed to be a little more poetic than it had been. What was once known was fading away in the most beautiful way imaginable, and a light was being cast on the unknown in a fashion that I had rarely seen of late.

In a few moments the light was gone and I was once again only one of a myriad of cars moving north at seventy miles an hour, but the feeling remained. I wasn’t quite sure if my car was representative of that proverbial cowboy in the sunset, or if the image had simply faded to signify the end. But it now seemed that the darkness on the horizon could peel back to reveal something wonderful, if only I chose to see it as beginning. It’s funny what a wedding can do to a person- or maybe it’s just a good day.