When my best friend got married, he had his nuptuals and ensuing bash at his 50 acre farm in New Hampshire. While the bride was already knocked up, the booze flowed freely and the debauchery reached all sorts of inappropriate levels. But that is another story in and of itself.
Greg has a brother and sister, but he chose his sister to be his "best man." I remember this keen distinction very clearly, as did the snubbed brother Nick. While he did get over it, I really dug the fuck that Greg would continue his "fuck tradition" mindset and embrace how close he is to his sister.
She is in a few words amazing, gnarly, real and uninhibited. Ildi is a rare bird in a world of clowns, half steppers, lazy drones and copy cats. We spent the majority of the weekend riding around on Honda CB 175's, zipping around town on beer runs, buying smokes and seeing how fast we could get the little bikes to wind out. It was fun, and we had co-pilots and other rabble rousers tagging along.
We had been good friends in college. I was at UMASS while she was at Clark. Our friends overlapped quite a bit, and through her I met the Eastern Boarder crew, Muzzey, Trevor Kupetz and other derilicts and fun merchants. It gave me a sea of sofas to crash on, memories to reflect on and experiences I can't remember and some I can't forget. We never dated. It was never like that, but I had a crush on her once in college for about a month. It was cool though. She made it easy to be friends.
But when the wedding died down and the drugs shifted from softer to much harder, the tone of the party began to change. You can only keep a monkey in a suit for so long before he'll rebel and tear it off. Imagine that same scenario, but with drunken buzzards who blow up shit for fun, get cramps from holding a beer 24/7, and generally are the funnest friends you can have. Someone turned it up a notch and others started hiding beers. It was getting late and getting out of hand at the same time. The civility and courtesy of the event had given way to the traditional New Hampshire beer swilling brawl.
Ildi decided to rent Greg and Haley a room for the night at the local hotel. The recently wed bride and groom jumped into the back of my dad's pickup truck while Ildi and I headed to a lake side motel. Normally, this type of tourist trap respite would be sneered at and dissed, but here it seemed appropriate. After trading hugs and high fives, I Love You's and goodnights, we headed back to the smoldering remains at the farm.
Along the way we stopped at a small park. It was quiet and dark and we headed down to the edge of the lake. Without a word Ildi stripped down and did a shallow dive into the calm lake. I quickly did the same and we talked quietly while we enjoyed the warm water. As the bright moon smiled down on us, thousands of stars gave some contrast to trees surrounding the edge of the water. I watched Ildi swim and the trail of the shimmering ripples when she ducked under the water. The dance between night and the lake was calming. It was refreshing to feel the water on my skin after standing so long near the bonfire earlier.
The gentle quiet of the lake, the revisited innocence of skinny dipping, and night air cooling my skin when we hopped out of the lake is such a strong memory. We laughed as we got dressed and headed back to the truck. While the crush I had in college popped back into my head, I realized that a decade had passed and we were different people now.
I always think of that night when I'm feeling down. The celebration and excitement of the wedding, and the secret secluded calming in its wake will always stay with me. I miss my friends and the time we spent together. I'm glad the memories seem indelible to me at this time.
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