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Ali Takes a Haas-band!

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First let me apologize for the duplicate photographic images in the previous post. What a knucklehead. I am happy to say that they are all fixed, if you scroll down and have a look.

Well, it is now official, as the evidence below proves. Ali and I are definitely hitched, some twenty-two years after first meeting in Señora Rosen’s Spanish class (a class in which I would not finish the year, as a result of growing animosity between me and the aforementioned señora).

Who could have thunk it, especially after our dramatic collegiate break-up, the culmination of a high school romance during what Ali refers to as the “too-too” adolescence? Of course, everything in adolescence can be said to be prefaced by the word “too,” and yet one never seems quite enough when you’re that age. Still, it happened in a strange twist of fate. So here is a visual and textual sampling of the recent event.

Photo: Ken, Keri, and I wait for the Bride

If the old adages are true, then we should have a glorious future ahead of us, no doubt. Our week leading up to the big day in Chicagoland went exceedingly well. We were busy but managed to address all details ahead of schedule. The weather was glorious. Both the day before and the day of the event things had cooled from their high 80°s-low 90°s, to a very lovely low 80°s. Everything was set for a magnificent event as we left to get dressed at our hotel room for our auspicious return. Then the thunderstorms materialized, positively out of nowhere, and commenced with not severe but rather steady rains, just as we got out of the car to get things going. Being an outdoor wedding this was a wrinkle we had anticipated, but were convinced would not be an issue. Surprise, surprise!

Photo: View of the Ceremony

Needless to say, there was a great deal of activity upon our arrival. My second family the Eastman’s rushed into action-mode, calling in in-law Eddie who lives just down the street. Before most people were the wiser, a team of Eastman relatives were assembling an additional tent where we were to have a front lawn ceremony. Bravo!

Photo: First Married Kiss

In a short time, we were able to rally the event and make due with some make-shift alternative arrangements. Everyone was really rather sporting about the whole thing. They must have been taking their cue from Ali, who was positively unfazed by the circumstances. In fact, she was even quite jovial about things, a mood which I must admit I did not share at the time. Fortunately, with so many people rushing to assist, it was hard for me to stay so dour.

Delayed and a little wet, we were married under the big tent in the backyard, amidst thunder and a gentle shower, which even produced a rainbow we were told. Everyone huddled under the canvas and helped us celebrate a fantastic ceremony, courtesy of my long-time friend Joanne, performing as minister. Joanne was marvelous, as were my Best Man Ken and Maid of Honor Keri. Our little bridal party made sure everything went smoothly amidst the circumstances. Before it was all over, Ali took me as her Haas-band, her new turn of phrase that she has become quite fond of using.

Photo: Traditional Toast

From then on, it was barbecue and cake, combined with the meet and greet. Ali and I were so busy we were barely able to stuff a few of our designer cupcakes down our cake holes, and we still didn’t get to everyone. Again, everyone was amazing and really made the day memorable and, more to the point, extremely special for the both of us. So thanks to all that were present. Hell, we even managed to celebrate the birthday of Ali’s sister and father!

Photo: Keri and Henry with Birthday Cake

Unfortunately, the images are still slowly rolling into my mits. So this is just a taste. The official pics should arrive in a couple of weeks. Thus, this is simply the first post that will cover the event. Hopefully, these will give those of you not in attendance a sense of what it was like.

Photo: Me and Ali - Newly Married

More on the big day to come.

A Birthday and a Blizzard

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Happy Valentine’s Day to all! I am happy to say that I am bequeathing a bouquet of berries and other bounty to my beloved. While she specifically requested no chocolate covered strawberries, which has become a kind of tradition, I opted for an healthier alternative.

Photo: Ali with Fruit Bouquet

It seems the requisite remiss has left the old fritzwinkle without a recent posting. So despite my well meaning intentions, I have not exercised the discipline of cranking out news on a more regular basis. I haven’t decided whether that is due to the increasing regularity of the mundane quality I sometimes see in life, my mental meanderings veering off to dominions dull and dreary to those compelled to scan this site, or just feeling like I genuinely have had less to say. Alright, maybe that last one is pushing it, but I certainly have been feeling that wrapped up in work sensation that I don’t imagine is always entertaining to people other than me. So, apologies to all the readers, but perhaps more, apologies to Ali and her family who are generally good at listening to me prattle on about arcane compositional instruction, even sometimes doing there level best to feign interest. I suppose thanks is in order too.

In any event, this weekend the Terwedows gathered for Ali’s birthday (observed) and as anyone would expect there was much boisterous ballyhoo (as evidenced by the patriarch enjoying his potholders, below). Gifts were given, cake was consumed, and there was general jocularity on Saturday evening, all as we waited for the coming of the highly touted nor’easter. Perhaps most amusing part of the evening was the ceremonial presenting of said cake, when Ali’s stepmother, Cathy, gingerly entered the dining room with a two handfuls of inferno. The cake was ablaze with enough candles to alarm the fire marshal. I think I could literally see the frosting melting as we sang the traditional anthem. Fortunately for all Ali was able to extinguish the raging flames with a single breath, which very nearly was cause for the smoke alarm to sound. There is a photo somewhere that documents the cloud that rendered Ali invisible from across the table. I’ll have to see if it is retrievable. Until then these will have to do.

Photo: Ali with Gifts

Photo: Henry Enjoying New Potholders

Photo: Ali's Birthday Cake of Terror

As we settled in for the evening, we all still wondered when yon nor’easter was going to arrive, bringing with it a blanket of white. Since it has been a very mild winter here and there have been many a storm hyped, but few with bite, I was skeptical. Then the reports from the Mid-Atlantic began glowing on the tube, with the images eventually migrating to Philadelphia and New York. Well, it appeared later than everyone expected, but it arrived with great fanfare, unloading over a foot of drifting powder on us all along the New England coast. I arose to discover that this time the weather reporters were right. It would be one of those days where nearly everything would be shut down. Being that it was a Sunday it was not an absolute dire situation; but it became more so as Ali and I were trapped in our apartment with almost no heat and the main television finally giving out, all first thing in the morning. If there is anything that would make a body slightly surly, it is being confined to a small space of something near 58 F combined with limited visual stimuli of the artificial variety. Fortunately, the heat would start to function by the mid-afternoon. The television, however, is no in need of a cemetery and we were relegated to the mini screen backup. So, I am now in the market for a new tube, even though I would really rather not be.

Yet, the saga continues.

London Calling: A Media Rant

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Well, this Thursday was a rather sobering one, as I watched the news on and off most of the day about the bombings in London. It really made me think about how ridiculous some of our media coverage is. Like many previous major tragic events the networks interrupt regularly scheduled programming to bring us live news coverage as it happens. Unfortunately, the reality is very little happens and next to nothing is known, at least initially. So we get force fed the same pabulum every ten to fifteen minutes, with the complimentary loop of video footage with the some of the most dramatic images. The whole thing serves to do little other than serve up a whole lot of noise, with very little information, and induces a kind of aimless panic.

What has always most amazed me during these kind of news events is how routinely the media, in an effort to be the first or exclusive, gets things wrong. I can’t count how many times the television news media has made statements or claims that were proven to be false, once someone actually does know something. Occasionally, we get that weak qualifier from the anchor about what is confirmed. Even worse is when we get some face on the television saying, “We don’t yet know…” or “officials have not yet released…” It’s all rather absurd. Yet, every time some significant event happens this same beast rears its ugly head and must be fed.

What I have found most interesting is that here in Boston at least one local anchor had to fly to London to “cover” the story. So there he was, live in the middle of the night with Big Ben in the background, with generally not a mush to say in his less than two minutes of air time. Wait, he did offer up the same sound-bite banter that reduces and stereotypes nearly all British people to their stiff upper lips. Even more interesting is how quickly the London bombings have been finding there way further down the headline lineup. It is already old news, in a way. In fact, we have got a hurricane about to rip through the Southeastern Gulf states. So there was all kinds of attention paid to an event about which we know very little, while all kinds of assumptions and “expert” analysis is proffered. The cameras roll and audiences are treated to a kind of grand violent tease. Then it is time to move on, because there are new stories to “cover.” All the while, the massive amount of misguided assumptions and misinformation are rarely rectified. When something more is known it will be old news and probably used as a footnote to get to the weather, because “all new is local.”

The whole thing made me understand why some of my friends don’t own a television, for anything other than a monitor for videos and games. More than that, it made me think what a disservice the news media is to most of us, generally. I think nearly sane individual saw the images coming from London and immediately felt sympathy and grief. In lieu of nothing to say, why can’t the news media be more of a reflection of that, rather than a voyeuristic, violent peep show with a predatory taste for blood and drama. What’s more do it without reducing all involved. The sight of the same bloody young Londoner, head wrapped, dressed in the remnants of his finely tailored suit, being helped to his feet, while he briefly stared into the lens of an on looking news camera, as if to say, “What are you doing?” grew grotesque, to say the least. Finally, how about keeping the reports simple and short, until someone knows something. That way people aren’t left to create their understanding on a bunch of half-truths and idle speculations. People don’t need any help in that area.

Just some random thoughts, prompted by a truly horrific incident, which I fear will become more the norm, even on our side of the pond. And as cliché as it may be, may all of our thoughts and prayers be with those victims and their loved ones. It is a wonder and a miracle more were not killed or maimed. To London.