It's Like A Fly In Your Chardonnay

So many things to go over, so little time.

I was hoping to post something from the brand new computer (post in itself) which was supposed to be delivered yesterday, but FedEx has let me down (again, a whole other post in itself) in a way that frustrates me immensely.

But, first thing’s effing first…

Friend, director, fellow actor and possible writing partner, Erik got himself married to the lovely and charming Irene. I got in the car after the initial stumbling block with FedEx, in a sour mood and staring down the dark underside of some ominous weather apparently trying to cross my path.

As I5 whited out in the ensuing downpour, and I thought to myself that this has happened more than once when driving to Tacoma, I hadn’t craved a smoke so hard in a long time. Some of that though was because of the unending mind echo of Alanis Morissette singing, “It’s like rain on your wedding day.” But I managed to get to Point Defiance, where there’s a compound of gardens, a zoo and aquarium, without hydroplaning or careening into some other hapless vehicle.

I got a little confused about the rose garden parking location and had to go to the zoo ticketing counter for directions. The slightly stressful drive may have had something to do with it, but this small trip to the ticket window became my own private David Lynch movie. First, there was a clown that sort of resembled J.P. Patches (the television clown I watched religiously as a child) making balloon animals for mildly upset children. Anytime a clown crosses your path (or balloon animals for that matter) things are bound to get wonky, but the person at the window who gave me directions in as vague a way as possible, seemed to have a misshapen head that made me think of horrible industrial accidents. Oh and there were peacocks wondering around all willy-nilly.

The peacocks reminded me of same birds wondering about in the same willy-nilly fashion around the Palace of Knossos on Crete. I was briefly reminded of warm weather, a whicker cowboy hat and that strange jungle noise a peacock makes that seems like it shouldn’t be coming out of a bird. These were thoughts that me smile as I had to pass by JP Drunky once again, who I’m pretty sure was about a minute and a half away from being escorted away by zoo officials.

So I found the garden, sat with a couple who have both directed me in plays (and who make me laugh a great deal) and watched my friends get hitched. It was a nice, touching ceremony, and it was quick, which I think everyone appreciates. The reception was at the aquarium itself which is a flipping awesome idea.

I spent a lot of time looking into the large tank of creatures that formed the center of the room, contemplating throwing things into it as well as talking myself down from actually jumping in. Yeah, it would have been a spectacle to be sure, but I think deep down, Erik would’ve wanted it that way.

Everything was well and fine until I was accosted by some dudes who had apparently spent a large amount of time inebriated with my brother. There was a lot of this type dialogue:

“There’s a Badge!”
“You’re a Badgley? Get out of here!”
“Definitely a Badge!”
“Badge!”
“Man, I have been so fucked up with your brother.”

I wanted to be cool, but honestly I didn’t know these “Dudes” (and they were the definition of Dudes), and I really couldn’t give two big ‘ol logs of poop about the times they had with my brother. Had said guys been 22 while they were shouting at me like I was C list celebrity at a kegger, I probably would have tolerated it with more humor.

But I doubt it.

Wrap up: Thrilled for Erik and Irene, I wish them all kinds of love and happiness. I had a great time although I did have to literally eat and run (well, fast walk) to get out and to my show that night. 30 some year old frat boys are possibly more annoying than the more age appropriate variety.