Wedding for couple No. 3262338509215000

So the wife and I are headed back southeast this weekend for what could turn out to be the wedding of the year. Our Charlotte pal Luke (or the man behind the LUUK link to the left ) and his gal pal are tying the knot Saturday in Little Rock, ArKANSAS (wife's spelling, not mine). As I look now over our travel schedule, it goes something like this: take American Airlines flight from the Oakland airport, connect in Dallas, take American Airlines shuttle to Little Rock, catch mule-drawn carriage from dirt-packed runway to downtown motor inn. Beware of the locals. Kidding. Jokes. Laugh.

Anyway, in case you're wondering, yes, our friend has decided to get married on April 1, otherwise known to the general public as April Fool's Day. You may think this is "cute" or "interesting" but anyone who knows Luke knows he's bad with dates and this is to keep from any future embarrassment with the future wife. Again, jokes. Seriously though, Luke is a man who is always full of surprises, so I'm guessing there is something slightly sinister afoot. Stay tuned.

And for our non-wedding entertainment there's this advertisement for the city that says: "Learn about the President of the United States or POTUS at the entertaining and family-friendly Clinton Presidential Library and Museum..." POTUS? Have we really come that far as a society that we need an acronym for the freaking presidential office? Kind of PO-dunk to me. But of course with little else to do in Little Rock, we'll be there.

Half Moon Bay...

The wife and I ventured from the warm, dark cavern that is our condo this weekend in order to dip our feet into the breathing wonders of the Pacific Ocean. The largest ocean on the planet rises and falls a mere hour's drive from our home and the ride through the rolling, green hills mesmerized us to the point that few words were spoken during our trip. The ease at which we progressed from hazy skies and overpopulation to sun-drenched heavens and quiet beaches pressed away any weariness the weeks before had amassed. The violence of crashing waves upon an outcropping of rocks nearby calmed us, as did the gawking of white sea birds circling above. Deep sand stung our bare feet, but smoothed in areas where the water recently receded. But there, where the water ebbed and flowed, we cautioned away. Along this stretch of northern California coast, the salty water is freezing and a single touch is enough to permanently chill your core. We laughed as if tickled by this cold, and then rushed to find comfort by burying our feet into the warm sand. We sat for several silent moments on a thick, black rock and allowed the ocean to speak for us. We had come here to offer our tidings and receive the blessings of the ocean. The energy of the waters filled us. The walk at Half Moon Bay made us whole again.

New Deserted Cartoon...

Check out the newest installment of my buddy Rob's web cartoon Deserted on his site (There's also a link to his site in the link bar at left). If you haven't already taken a look at his stuff, you should do that immediately. There are about a half dozen original shorts that will make you smile.

The Raconteurs rock

Been meaning to deliver this not-so-new-anymore-news for some time. (Thanks to my good friend in the know — Tball, who shared the facts months ago. I know blog, smog!). Anyway, here's a link to the new Jack White side project, The Raconteurs, which also features Brendan Benson. The site has two songs and a video for the first single "Steady as She Goes." The song is great. UPDATE: After you enjoy that wonderfully designed site (just love the early-80s-type interface) you can slide over here to listen to BBC DJ Dermot O'Leary Saturday night broadcast featuring a live, in-studio spot from the band. Who says I'm always late with news? Enjoy.

And there was a dance ...

We were younger then. High school prom. She was beautiful even in one of those fluffy Jackie-O pink dresses that's sole purpose was to ensure teenage girls with particularly well-off parents didn't get pregnant after the prom. I was not as well-off, nor did I struggle to make the $80 payment on my basic tuxedo. Of course, the prom picture-taking was frightening. Two of us, dressed better than we would be on any other day save our (separate) wedding days. My arms curved around her waist in the most uncomfortable way, as if my parents were making me hug my sister after some long, drawn-out fight instead of holding on to someone I'd had a crush on for most of my life. But she was just as tense. The smile wrapped gently below her cheeks seemed disingenuous, which was hard to imagine for someone so sweet in all other aspects of life. There we stood, uncomfortably waiting, wrapped in each other's arms, under the sliver of an alumnium-foil-covered, cardboard-cutout moon, as close as we'd ever been, waiting for the photographer to give us one final cue before the flash froze this awkward moment in time.

FLASH

The photo now speaks volumes. The space between us grew as the night progressed. During the photo opportunity, the space measured maybe two inches, max. By the time the night was over, that space measured a lifetime. [ STAY TUNED ]