The author, the boyfriend, the other dude
Oh, hello! Where the heck have you been?
I myself have split the last two months between Nevada City, California and New York State; I’ve been away from home so much that when the boyfriend made himself a latté in our kitchen I was pleasantly surprised to remember we had an espresso machine at all.
“I love this place!” I exclaimed.
“Uh, yeah…” he said, “It’s our home.”
“Well I’m totally going to give it a good Yelp review.”
We flew in yesterday after week-long preparations for the wedding of our friends, Cameron and Anna. It was a very romantic ceremony, even to someone like me who hates love. (I’m being hyperbolic – I don’t hate love, I just think it’s difficult to wear well and makes most people look fat.)
That our dear friend Cameron got married is nothing short of a small miracle. This is the man who spent nearly every day I knew him locked in his room playing cello - not exactly the best way to meet chicks. Only occasionally would he leave his bedroom to make Blanquette de veau and watch Tim & Eric Awesome Show, Great Job!
Despite his young age and good looks, his social life was like that of a senior, upper-middle-class, Jewish couple – Friday nights spent at LACMA seeing rare showings of socially significant films about oppressed lower classes (played by gorgeous actors, of course) of some foreign country, or else sipping champagne at some new sculpture garden somewhere. It was at such a sort of event he met Anna.
When he introduced my boyfriend and I to the new girl he was dating, we were equal parts thrilled and shocked. Like... imagine your juvenile-delinquent child suddenly announcing he’d been elected mayor of your town; you’d be ecstatic, relieved, but also mystified.
Anna was beauty and grace personified. It was kind of obnoxious. Best of all, when Cameron vocalized one of his typical non sequiturs, she found it more charming than confounding, which made my heart swell sweetly.
ME: “So Cameron, what did you think of Salonen’s new recording of Rite of Spring?”
ME: “No – what did you think of it?”
CAMERON: “What… tomorrow? Or are… are you talking about the broccoli?”
[Insert Anna melting with affection here.]
Some of you will remember Anna from her participation in Project Runway, Season 7. As one would expect, she designed her own wedding dress and it was, as the French say, rad.
Anna makes it work.
The whole ceremony left me wondering what music I would play at my wedding, should I ever be legally allowed to marry my partner of six years (hint, hint, hate-filled oppressors). Christine McVie (of Fleetwood Mac fame) would be an important part of the music selection, as it was our mutual love of her that served to first bring us together.
Our song, however, is Cole Porter’s "Ev’ry Time We Say Goodbye", in particular as sung by Betty Carter. Maybe for our first dance? Although something by 2 Live Crew might be more romantic...
But when it comes to the dance party portion of the wedding celebration, I’m afraid the boyfriend and I will come to fisticuffs over his love for 1990s house music (which bores me, spiritually) and my desire to dance to 1970s punk (which he often finds immature, trite, and poop-esque).
Cameron and Anna’s wedding took place at the Basilica Hudson in the town of Hudson in upstate New York. The space is amazing, and often hosts concerts, shows and other shenanigans. If you ever have a chance to visit, by all means do, regardless of who’s featured – it’s worth seeing the space for sake of its self. (One of the co-owners is Melissa Auf der Maur of Hole and The Smashing Pumpkins fame.) I was bummed to have missed a performance at the Basilica by Godspeed You! Black Emperor by only one day.
Golden Shoulders shows start exactly on time.
With only one night in Brooklyn before returning to LA, I was ecstatic to learn Golden Shoulders would be playing one night only at Pete's Candy Store in Williamsburg. As always, Adam Kline and Jason Graham gave good show; if you can catch them on their current tour, you absolutely should. Well, if you're into awesome music and sweet times, that is.
Home at last, I’m spending the day crushing my cats with cuddles and eating sensibly (alas!) and, of course, writing to you, my darling reader. Next time I wish you’d just come with me!
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