Reflecting on scenes from a beach wedding
- Mike Dewey: Life Lines
- October 23, 2021
- 870
I had to know, with the same burning, intense curiosity that fired Chuck Yeager’s imagination as he chased the sound barrier.
I wouldn’t be satisfied until, like Kramer in the classic “Seinfeld” episode, I knew how far you could drive with the car running on empty.
It wasn’t quite like Icarus, defying Daedelus by flying too close to the sun, but I was in the ballpark.
Inquiring minds have always wanted to know more, from the days of Jessica Hawn and Donna Rice to Monica Lewinsky and Stormy Daniels. It’s part of the human psyche.
My quest had nothing to do with the sublime or the ridiculous.
I just wondered how many channels were available on the cable TV service that’s offered in this oceanfront house where my wife and I are celebrating our wedding anniversary.
I had a feeling it was a lot, having done some basic reconnaissance between innings of the major league baseball playoff games I’d been enjoying.
Since there was no handy-dandy laminated card that provided a complete listing of them all, I decided discover it on my own.
“What are you doing?” my wife asked as she (literally) tended to her knitting, creating a scarf for her granddaughter.
“Well,” I said, “I’m going to go all the way. I’m on a mission.”
“Good luck,” she said, giving me the look she saves for my most ridiculous moments. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
“Oh, I won’t need luck,” I said. “Trust me on that.”
Five minutes into it, however, my right thumb had nearly gone numb with the repetitive nature of scrolling through the choices.
Five minutes after that, having left 150 channels behind, I was beginning to wonder just how many Home Shopping Clubs anyone really needed, and then I got into vintage TV real estate, as I rolled through “Andy Griffith,” “Perry Mason,” “The Rifleman” and “Patty Duke.”
It was another five minutes and I was into the Spanish-speaking section, which was considerably more diversified than I’d expected.
By the time I’d wandered into the music video landscape, something about seeing Ratt and Cinderella again made me put down the remote.
I was on Channel 354.
And there was no end in sight.
I don’t know much but I’m pretty sure that when you’ve got the Atlantic Ocean right outside your back door, there’s really no need for TV at all. It’s always there, offering memorable vistas, memories of which will get you through the worst winter storms.
But I understand keeping up with the news — as depressing as ever — and tracking the baseball playoffs — guilty as charged. All I’m saying is that when you have a week in October on the Outer Banks, the television is best kept for rainy days.
Thankfully, we’ve had nothing but blue skies and sunshine since we arrived and the forecast is for more of the same.
It’s very reminiscent of the week were married in 2007.
I was 52 years old that fall, an unusually advanced age for a first-time groom, and I’m fairly certain that most of my friends and family had resigned themselves to the fact that I’d never make it legal, that I’d never follow through on my engagement promise.
Still, when the word went forth in the form of invitations sealed in storm-tossed bottles – my fiancée had such a good time planning the whole thing – the response was quite gratifying.
There was certainly a curiosity factor involved; after all that time, what would the ceremony and the attending events actually look like?
But there was more than that, there was loyalty and love on hand.
From Alabama and Virginia, Arizona and Pennsylvania, Wisconsin and Virginia, North Carolina and of course Ohio, folks who wanted to be part of the best day of my life arrived for a weekend of fun and reflection.
I had planned to commit my vows to paper weeks before but, me being me and trusting always in my ability to finish on deadline, I worked out the final draft in my mind as I paced the dunes, looking for the perfect words to sum up my feelings.
The preacher wore sandals, the guys were dressed in everything from Hawaiian print shirts to shirts and ties and the ladies looked lovely in their sundresses and beach ensembles.
A colleague from the newspaper took many photos and I look at them every now and again, along with a video shot by friends who decided that the event ought to have that kind of keepsake, too.
Maybe one of these days, it’ll show up on cable service near you.