Sunspots
The list of things that went wrong yesterday would go on and on, if I could bring myself to compile it. At one point, both iPod speaker systems (different makes, different rooms) took to stopping spontaneously. At another, the freight elevator went inexplicably on the blink. The elevators go on the blink all the time, but this time no one knew why. Then it fixed itself, just like the iPod speakers.
Then there was my long phone call with Miss G, who — it’s official now — is planning to get married in November. Yesterday, we learned that she and her fiancé have found a ring. This was good news, because it meant that Kathleen wouldn’t be checking out estate jewelry on the Internet anymore — not, at least, on my daughter’s behalf. Every once in a while, I’d be summoned to the computer, to give my opinion about a ring or two. Now that the ring issue has been dealt with, Kathleen has moved on, to mother-of-the-bride dresses.
This afternoon, Miss G — who is going to change her name, dropping the “G” part — and I were talking about family members who might or might not be invited. She rather reasonably wants to stick to people whom she knows, or has at least met more than once. It wasn’t hard to imagine how unreasonable I should have been about this ten years ago. Even though I have learned, the hard way, how unacceptable unreasonable behavior is, I was pretty dopy on the phone, assuring Megan that she was absolutely right but immediately contradicting myself with vague remarks about how “funny” people can be about weddings. It was like talking on flypaper. I finally had the sense to put Kathleen on the phone. Kathleen also assured Megan that she was absolutely right, but she sounded completely convinced of what she was saying.
I long to watch Father of the Bride — the first one, of course, with Spencer Tracy — but I know that that way only madness lies. No movie that’s as old as I am is going to help me figure out how to cope with the concept of a cheerful and comfortable wedding that also makes sense at every turn, and every symbol chimes.