June 6. Wedding in twelve days. Out back eating buttered bread, drinking seltzer, killing nymph spotted lanternflies with a wooden coaster which depicts sassy frogs getting ready for a night out on the town.
Guy walking by playing harmonica slowly and sweetly.
Got dress shoes and a wedding ring in the mail yesterday. Not used to wearing rings, but need to get comfortable wearing one so these cougars will stop propositioning me in the parking lot after gigs.
I missed writing. Want to get to know contemporary me a little better and figure out why this beautiful woman would want to make such a commitment to me. I’m as baffled as you are.
Got to stop typing and call the borough hall and ask how to get a marriage license. Pleased to realize that I can afford the $28. As for the cost of the ceremony, I’ve been stealing little bits of cake, cookies, napkins, booze, steak from other people’s weddings for ten years. Kind of like Johnny Cash’s “One Piece At A Time.”
Wondering if I will technically be married THIS week.
Thinking about how she looked in the blue dress she bought for $5 at a Princeton estate sale yesterday. That rush of joy I often get when she turns a corner and suddenly we’re face to face. I am rendered speechless in these moments and I know I’ve got to take a chance on this lady.
I remember seeing her face from afar when I was thirty-one and thinking about how nice it would be to see it up-close.
I can’t wait to drive up to the mansion on the hill and have a big party with the people I love. I can’t wait to see her in her dress. I can’t wait to play my guitar real loud.
With any luck, there will also be an acoustic jam session as the sun goes down. I’ve put out the word. I count twenty professional musicians on the guest list. It would be a great time to put my GoPro on my rotating tripod, but I won’t even pretend that I’ll remember to do that.
Time to call our booze guy, Joe Booze. Goodbye for now.