Wedding at the graveyard.

Yesterday, one of my oldest friends got married. I have known Eric for about 13 years, we're not always in close contact, but I look forward to our chances to catch up.

Eric was a mortician for a few years. One year, at a funeral industry convention, met a lovely lady, Alicia, also a mortician (funeral director?) and, well, you know how it goes from there.

Their wedding, on 9/10/11, was amazing. It all started a few months ago, when I got an invitation in the mail. It was adorable, the two of them, holding hands, lying atop a couple of graves - blissful, eternal and loving. I instantly knew the wedding would be equally awesome.

Finally, the day arrived. Ruth and I got dressed up in black and headed to the mortuary where the service would be. Besides being an old friend's wedding, it would be a day where I was sure to run into old friends whom I hadn't seen in around 10 years.

We got to the location about 45 minutes before the ceremony, and walked into the chapel we assumed would be used. A few ladies in dark clothing looked up at us with confusion. Afraid we had interrupted a funeral, we quickly turned around and walked to another building where we found Eric taking photos with the wedding party. He assured us we were originally in the right place and we went back to wait a short while before being seated in the chapel.

The place was decorated in red and black, a few flowers, not many. Severed hands and feet decorated the pews, adding to the graveyard ambiance. Soon, the assembly got quiet, Eric came out, swaggered down the aisle, and broke the tension with a quick "wassup y'all, welcome to the wedding" as he made his way to the front. A few flower girls, then the glowing bride.

As her father handed Alicia off to Eric, I noticed the person officiating the wedding was one of Eric's favorite types of people; he was, without a doubt, a midget. I should have expected nothing... more(?). Eric had written the ceremony and did a fantastic job making it personal, sweet, and catered to who they were as individuals. It eschewed the typical boring religious and traditional ceremonies and invoked laughter, and heart-warming "awww" moments, culminating in the midget declaring: "By the power of Greyskull, I pronounce you Man and Wife".

The deed was done. Beautifully. The new couple walked out of the chapel, followed by the wedding party, then the guests.

After the ceremony, I caught up with a few faces from my past, and before long got in the car to go to the reception. When we got to the community center, we found toe-tags with our names that gave us our table assignment. I was glad to find we had been seated with the couples co-workers. We got an earful of hilarious mortician stories; gruesome, dark and twisted, I love the sense of humor that people in their field develop.

The midget pastor had now changed outfits. He was dressed as a young Elvis, giving us quick shakes of his hips and a kingly sneer. He was onto his second act, DJing. Eric explained to me, "the midget is great, he does twice the work for half the pay!"
Midget Elvis DJ (oh, and karaoke singer) this wedding had everything!!

Some delicious eats from The House of Chicken and Ribs, a quick speech from Eric's brother Jason, as best man, and a fast but sweet 1st dance. The whole of the wedding was quick, painless and to the point. There was a fun table with weird costumes set out, people were dressing up and having the wedding photogs take their picture. All in all it was a fun, memorable, lovely wedding. I had a great time, was glad both to see some old friends and to be able to be there for the union of a great couple. I wish Eric and Alicia the best in the future and look forward to their return from the honeymoon, and our next round of catching up.

trying to remember last week: Burning Man 2011

For years I'd heard stories of post-apocalyptic desert punks, dancing around fire, driving vehicles right out of Mad Max, burning intricate art works, engaging in every sex act and drug known to man for 7 days in the summer, just outside of Reno, Nevada. This yearly festival was known as Burning Man.

I put off going time and again, until this year.

But Burning Man is a bit different. I was correct, kind of, not entirely. That's what Burning Man had been, years ago; but now, it's different. The festival is created by the attendees, everyone is a participant. And the people who make up attendees have changed.

It seemed to me that the desert punks were replaced by spring break frat boys, the fire had been replaced by LEDs and glow sticks, the art was still pretty good, but the drugs and sex had been run out in the name of 'family fun'. The annual event had grown into a massive business, striving to always bring more people; forgetting the basic wisdom of Ed Abbey: "Growth for the sake of growth is the ideology of the cancer cell".

The cartoon South Park ran a three part special involving Burning Man this year, which led to an unprecedented selling of 53,000 tickets (10,000 more than 2010), maxing out the BLM lease agreement for the first time ever. The freaks and weirdos had long since stopped attending the Burn, there was a new crowd now. Half of this years Burners were first timers, with no idea of the culture, rituals and lifestyle that had been associated with the event. They were looking for a party, they were looking for spring break.

The art was, like most art exhibitions, a mix of amazing and horrid. Art Cars, drove around the dried lake bed known as The Playa, playing the newest in electronic music, and decorated in all sorts of ways. The Death Star, numerous unicorns, and a Giant Fire-spewing ocotpus made their way around the camp.



There was enough good art to keep me busy and intrigued. A few fire-shooting statues and some mechanical pieces scattered around the giant campgrounds, each controlled by anyone who wanted to step to the cockpit.

Daily workshops and events were marked in the calendar; they ranged the spectrum of interests, from simple Bloody Mary parties, to teaching men to "Reclaim and Regrow their Foreskin" - for men regretful that their parents had them circumcised.

Theme camps were everywhere. The Period Bar served tomato soup and bloody marys. Cafe's served coffee, bars had beers and hard drinks, there was something for everyone, and all of it, free. BM used to be based around trade, but it became to large. Now it is a gift economy - it is expected that everyone who comes will have something to contribute and give of themselves.

There were good times, fun sights, and a different atmosphere than most people are used to. The event had changed from what I had originally heard about and expected, and while it at times seemed more like a pro football game than a freaky art, music, drug and sex festival, I still had a good time.

I'll have more pictures up soon, originally I had hoped to blog live from the Burn, but the wifi access is spotty and it didn't work out, now i'm stuck trying to remember 9 days of partying and new sights.

Made it out alive. Lot wifi and couldn't update. Bigger post coming soon.

Made it out alive. Lot wifi and couldn't update. Bigger post coming soon.

Sent from iFritz