After a few days at home, where the soreness in my thighs that began on August 9th finally dissipated, the big event that caused this 8-day sabbatical from the pilgrimage arrived: the wedding of Mark Lecy’s daughter Julia to Chase Zivzac (I don’t know who made up that surname; seems more of a witness protection creation than a hangover from Ellis Island’s mistake). We drove up to Door County Wisconsin to celebrate and experience a reuniting with friends, including some actors with previous cameos in the Pedaling Pilgrimage: Ken and Kristin Reali, Shootman, Jon Rachiele, and Bill Rohde (who was still game for some sing-along to one-hit wonders from the 1970’s). We also shared an AirBNB with friends Chad Bohlmann and Mike Anderson, who again proved their most redemptive qualities are their wives: Heidi and WenDee. It was a festive affair, though it did little to bank any extra hours of sleep as we made memories around the campfire into the wee hours (at times with a bit too much exuberance and volume) on consecutive nights before we even got to the official wedding day celebration. The wedding celebration was a beautiful outdoor affair, officiated by Mark’s brother Brett, delivered with the calming confidence you’d expect from an experienced Delta Airlines pilot.
At the wedding party, I thought about wearing my Apple-bottom jeans and boots with the fur, but I didn’t want the whole barn looking at me: this party was about Julia and Chase. Though it’s not unusual for me to clothe myself with some flair. My friend Mike Anderson says I’m the only guy he knows that can pull off my particular choices of outfit. I guess I feel that if I can bring some fun into the world through my threads, then it’s a responsibility… laugh with me or laugh at me, I don’t really care when I dress like a clown, I just hope to bring some gaiety to the festivities.
And… if you dress like a clown, you should dance like a clown, though I was happy to see many others cutting some mean shapes on the dance floor. There was ostentatious hip shaking, booty smacking, twisting, twirling… even a few worm movements on the floor in formal attire. The job of feet may be walking, or pedaling… but their hobby is dancing. Thanks to the celebration of Julia and Chase, I got to witness many different dance hobbyists perfecting their particular crafts. My friend Mike Anderson even approached the dance floor during a few popular songs; once he even took his hands out of his pockets. Mike told me he’s a “mock dancer”, but I think the mocking is all in his head.
To make sure everyone knew who this party was for, the groom did his best “Magic Mike” moves and ended the evening topless. In all, it was the best barnyard hoedown I’ve ever witnessed. I don’t think anyone under the age of 30 ever left the dance floor. After several hours, us older folks became barnyard wall flowers as the young stars of the promenade emerged; we sat and remembered when we were young and we shone like the sun.
I had several conversations with wedding attendees about the blog; I’m happy, encouraged and humbled by your kind words. Some wanted to see the thumb that has put out 100,000 words over the past 8 weeks; I suppose they were disappointed by the lack of appreciable buildup of my thenar eminence at the base of my right palm. In discussion with #1 fan Katie and Kayla Reali, I learned that human finger lengths have changed over generations due to alterations in usage; Katie speculated about how our hands will look in 10,000 years (I didn’t have the heart to tell heart that AI will take over and wipe out all humans on Thursday, or maybe a week from Thursday).
Following the Saturday night celebration, Christin and I returned home for a few final days of recuperation. My sabbatical ended with quality time around some family, highlighted by a visit to Kuiper’s Farm with my grandson Judah. It’s wonderful spending time with Judah as it provides an opportunity to again see the world through the eyes of a child; the obvious wonders that he perceives provide a reminder to when my children were small, and evokes memories of my own childhood. It’s sometimes sad, knowing those joyous memories with my small children are gone, and I’m a lifetime away from my own days playing with toy trucks in the sand; but I’m blessed to have these memories and a reminder from Judah that there can be joy in the small things in life. Whether walking a daughter down the aisle or bouncing a grandkid on your knee, for many of us, children are a great gift and a source of inspiration, happiness, and wonder – I’m blessed to have this experience.
And now it’s time to go back, Jack, do it again… wheel turning round and round. We shuffle back to Buffalo on AA 2921 to get the steeds back on the road. I was down nearly 15 pounds when I got home a week ago; I’ve put a few of those back on AND my tan line is fading… we need to reconvene to reinvigorate these physical transformations and seek some final mental, emotional and spiritual affects. We have 9 planned days of journey through New York, Massachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island before we reach Bailey Beach in Newport.
For the Spotify playlist, I have a few topical items to offer:
When we arrived too early to the wedding ceremony, our 7-person group sat in the car and fired up for the event with some disco classics: I’m Your Boogie Man, Ring My Bell, You Should Be Dancing… And as I noted earlier, we had a very enjoyable time at the barnyard dance party after the wedding. In memory of this festive day of groovings and gyrations: I Get’s My Boogie On
Maybe just to reinforce my earlier thoughts on my ensemble, I want to include a song with emphasis on personal portrayals through attire. Because sometimes, you know, it’s better to be thought of as a fool. I’m Just a Clown
Trampled by Turtles have some good original songs a few great covers; that song At Your Window that Mark and Julia danced to is really lovely, but as Geeto and I return to business, I’m reminded that Life is Good on the Open Road.
As we return to the open road, I wanted to share an old Irish blessing that I hope will help see us through to Bailey Beach:
May your road be free from puncture-inducing detritus. May the sun shine to dry your dewy tent fly. And may your eyes be free from blinding blephartis.
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