vip in the city

Wedding at The Lighthouse

DK’s big day! Since neither SYB nor I were bringing dates, we agreed to meet at my apartment in the morning for the taxi ride to Chelsea Piers. As soon as I entered, I was delighted to see a familiar face in JE, the old college roommate, whom I hadn’t seen since running into her at The Conservatory Gardens two or three years ago. She was positively glowing with the news of her two-weeks’ old engagement. Her fiance was with her, in town from California; they’d met last year at her best friend’s wedding. How romantic (and inspiring)!

Best man HH came by to greet us as we were sipping our pre-ceremony seltzers in the foyer. Groom DK strolled in shortly afterwards, looking a little nervous, but otherwise happy. I hadn’t seen the boys in tuxes since our high school prom, and the sight of them as grown men, dashing in their wedding finery, made me a little nostalgic.

Show time. At my insistence, SYB, DK’s friend JR and I snagged seats near the front, overlooking the Hudson. The venue was as lovely as I remembered from touring it three years ago with J & J when they were considering wedding locales. The days-long heatwave had broken and the skies were clear and almost impossibly blue. The stage was set for a perfect day.

Short, sweet ceremony. DK’s twin nieces made adorable flower girls. The bride was, of course, beautiful in her white gown, but the range of emotions playing across DK’s face as she made her walk towards him down the aisle is what I will remember most.

A cocktail hour followed during which I had the opportunity to mingle with the other guests, none of whom I knew or recognized. HH introduced me to two of LC(K?)’s brothers and I chatted with one of DK’s cousins while we were in line for the smoked salmon and carved Smithfield ham. Probably spent the most time with LK’s friends, an architect/purse-designer couple from Park Slope. I was describing to them how I’d been friends with DK, HH and SYB since junior high school and the wife observed, “So you’re the girl! You’re their Elaine!” Which got me to thinking: can that possibly be true?

Naturally, this led to a discussion of the other characters in the dysfunctional quartet. Ultimately, we couldn’t decide whether DK or HH would be Jerry, but SYB would definitely be the Kramer.

According to Wikipedia:

Elaine is mostly a victim of fate throughout the series. Her storylines see her caught up in the machinations of the other characters, or coming into conflict either with inadequate boyfriends or the arbitrary requirements of her eccentric employers. Many episodes end with Elaine ruining something for someone.

Haha.

During the luncheon, I was seated at a table with HH, SYB, other friends of LK and a former co-worker of DK’s, who rather curiously brought her married, vegetarian trainer as her date.

The band and singer performed a classic rotation of American standards and smooth-jazz dining music. Perhaps due to the early hour, or the whims of the crowd, there was actually very little dancing after the bride and groom had their first dance to “At Last.” I was determined not to be a wallflower, though, and even managed to coax turns out of HH, SYB and JE’s fiance, SS.

As the festivities wound down, HH managed to snag 1.5 centerpieces for me — someone had cherry-picked the roses and swiped the vase of one, stuffing the remainders into a wine glass. We picked up our photo favors, and SYB accompanied me with the flowers to my place to change and recharge while HH wrapped up his best man duties for the day. After all the early excitement, it was probably no surprise that I ended up passing out in a champagne/cocktail haze until HH called to reconvene upon his return from Brooklyn.

After burgers at the Fairway Cafe, the three of us caught the 10:30PM show of Talladaga Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby. It seemed I had vastly underestimated the draw of Will Ferrell; by the time we arrived just before 10:00 (having wisely purchased our tickets before dinner), the line snaked along the entire length of the second floor. Nonetheless, we still managed decent seats in the sold-out theatre.

I once read Ferrell described as “shame immune,” and I think that could well be the crux of his appeal. John C. Reilly (as best friend Cal) and Sacha Baron Cohen (as Ricky’s gay, Formula Un nemesis) provided impressively solid, comic support — which prevented the film from relying too heavily on Ferrell’s signature screaming and stripping. Despite a nagging headache, I found myself laughing aloud in parts. It seems Ferrell has rebounded nicely from the nadir of Bewitched (which I actually did see in a theatre, but for free… and even then felt it was not worth the 102 minute investment.)

So in spite of not experiencing JE’s wedding luck in love, it was a nice ending to an eventful day.