Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Ewing Reception

While the wedding party took pictures, the guests gathered inside. I caught up with Cynthia, who is enjoying raising her three children, all under ten. Lauren caught me up with the last twenty years of her life, and the whereabouts of sister Beverly. Later Lauren spent considerable time talking home-schooling with Ceil and Mary.

We were delighted to see Bob and Myra. Before the service Dr. Marsh told me Alabama was trailing Arkansas. It reminded me of the story Bob told not long after arriving at SPdL, in the late seventies. If you weren’t aware, the Marsh’s son Charles’ best friend in high school, Steadman Shealy, quarterbacked the 1979 National Championship team:

In Dothan Marsh preached a funeral one Saturday afternoon in the fall, while a key Bama football game was raging. The ensuing funeral procession drove slower and slower as every car radio tuned to the penultimate march downfield. As the procession reached the gravesite, Bama’s drive was halted one yard short of the goal. After the graveside service a young man approached the preacher, seeking comfort. Dr. Marsh gently said “What a shame.” “Yes”, said the young man, looking defeated. “Just one more yard.”

At the reception I mentioned the story to Bob, who immediately remembered. Later he updated the score: Bama had come back to beat Arkansas. Later, near the food line, he asked where Myra was. I pointed him to her table. Thanks, he said…and turned and strode off in the other direction.

Mark must’ve been hungry, for as we all talked he was one of the first through the line. He sat behind us at a table, quietly chowing down, nodding at the bits of conversation tossed his way. Later I followed Ceil and Mary through the line. Jimmy and Tyler were temporarily stationed at the end of the line, so we were able to chat with the bride and groom.

Most of us “old” people are grains of sand in Jimmy’s universe. But with the exception of the crow-shooting Mark, the rest of our old gang are classified as friends of parents. To Jimmy’s great delight, Mary tries to joust with him on the internet. Ceil was a friend of Jenny, and I Ceil’s husband. All my hilarious bits and skits and Top Ten Lists with the SPdL youth were before Jimmy’s time. That dark side of me is largely unknown to him.

Jimmy and George were always quite accommodating to Will, bestowing crow’s foot necklaces round his neck and taking him fishing in thunderstorms. Sister Margaret was gracious enough to include Anna and Ceil in several of her pre-wedding activities.

But on this night Jimmy was uncharacteristically gracious, going out of his way to talk to us several times. I had only met Tyler once before, but she seemed to enjoy the one-liners we shot her way.

As usual, Ceil was paying more attention to the people around her than the food, so by the end of the line she had a huge plate of food. This delighted Jim to no end, and he capitalized on the opportunity to rib Ceil for taking advantage of all the “free food.” Since it was Jimmy's reception, we thought it strange there was no pig or deer strung up to eat.

Though most were sitting, David and I stood. We were able to have several extended conversations with Jim, who didn’t seem to have many father-of-the-groom duties. He pointed out his look-alike brother, whose scandalous wedding date was a vivacious redhead.
Jim recounted his victory at Margaret’s wedding reception, when challenged by the father of the groom to an unlikely daddy dance-off. Always the near teetotalling outdoorsman, the low-key, self effacing Jim has never been known to get his freak on. And as the competition unfolded his older opponent took the lead, at least in Margaret’s eyes. “Dad, he’s beating you!” she exclaimed.
That was all Jim needed to hear. Soon he was down on all fours, cutting moves that amazed the crowd. “She was the only one in the world I’d do that for” Jim told me. “You won’t be seeing any of that tonight.”
A DJ cranked up the music, welcoming guests and introducing the newlyweds. Out came Jimmy and Tyler, almost in a trot. When they arrived on the dance floor, they gave each other a big high five. I expected to see high school football highlights. The DJ played “Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I’m Yours” for the first dance. Other classic tunes followed. Before I could say it out loud, “Mac the Knife” was playing.

Next Tyler danced with her dad. Jimmy found his grandmother, and danced with her. Hurt wondered if it would be OK to cut in.

With both siblings married off, poor George was the recipient of a constant barrage of obligatory “Well, I guess you’re next!” remarks all night long. He suffered in good humor. At the reception he greeted David and I as “Mr. Hurt and Mr. Murphy.” Nonsense, we said. David said “Call me ‘Hey, You!’” I said “Please! Call me Mr. DAVE Murphy.”

Ceil and Mary needed a place to eat, so we moved outside. Our wives knew more people, and spent considerable time talking to friends and family. They got to talk to Margaret for a long while, and a Ewing aunt who’d had puppies. This was fine for David and me, and we sat and discussed the issues of the day. I knew we had talked a long time when he told me TWO stories about his favorite place in the world, the Diamond Horseshoe Saloon at Disney World.

Later Jimmy passed us, hustling to the car. He carried Tyler’s purse, allowing us to give him a hard time. Of course, not long after that I had to retrieve Ceil’s tiny purse from where I’d left it inside. All the younger people had filled the floor, and were dancing up a storm. I thought the only way to maneuver to the purse would be to pull a Kramer, and dance my way over to the table. Fortunately it didn’t come to that.

On my way back outside I passed Tyler, so I reported that Jimmy looked good carrying her purse. Then I showed her how I was in the same boat. Jimmy was just outside, and he thanked me for “helping make the evening special.” I had?

We knew it was time to leave when the DJ played "Brick House." Thirty minutes later he played Lady GaGa's "Bad Romance"…so we left.

We made our way to the front of the Inn just as George backed in the getaway vehicle. He left it unlocked and unattended, but we were too tired to come up with any schemes. By this time Mary was carrying her shoes, and I thought they might fit well in Jimmy’s bag. Instead, us old folks hobbled off into the night.

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