The Piper Who Put The Interest In My Cousin’s Wedding
There came from the church vestibule the most God-awful cacophony I’ve ever heard.
Before Brea made a respectable man out of Evan by having an adorable daughter with him, manipulating him into getting a job as an investment advisor which lead to them buying a house in Connecticut — he was a starving artist in New York City — and my friend — and workout buddy.
Those were fun days! I had a real good gig in real estate, buying low and selling as high as I could after a cosmetic makeover. I was pumping new energy into old buildings. Evan and I hung out every week day morning at the gym, Evan getting into the proper mental state to paint pictures all afternoon and me working off morning excess energy to be appreciative of not having to do anything physical in the afternoon.
The gym cost $150 per month. It was sometimes a tough stretch for Evan to come up with the funds. He and I hammered out a deal. I’d pay his gym fees for a year and he would gift me 2 paintings and something else. Neither of us could think of that something else at the time of our agreement but something else was to be named later.
During the year of my paying Evan’s gym fees, I learned of 2 things; my cousin’s decision to get married and the fact that Evan was able to play the bagpipes. He was proficient enough to the degree he played at the governor’s inauguration. Neat little thing that I discovered about him.
After consulting with my cousin and him consulting with his bride to be and her mother.The something else turned out to be; Evan would lay the pipes at my cousin’s wedding. My wedding gift to the couple.
Evan never made it to the rehearsal but it was the original agreement that he would play the pipes for the processional and the recessional. He and the church organist would preform a duet. Evan felt it wouldn’t be a problem. After all, both he and the organist had played “Here Comes The Bride” and “All You Need Is Love” countless times.
The day of the wedding was the coldest day of the year. Everyone waited in hopes that things may warm up by 8:00 PM but at the time of the wedding it was still frigid.
As everyone involved assembled at 7:30 and the guests were entering the church — there was still no Evan. The decision was made to start the wedding ceremony without him. The organist would do a solo “Here Come The Bride.”
At 8:00 Evan arrived riding a BICYCLE. Sticking out of one of the largest backpacks I’ve ever seen was his bagpipe. Because I was a groomsman and currently marching down the aisle, I didn’t have a chance to talk to him. He must have figured that he could join the organist in playing in the processional. He remained in the church vestibule, not coming up to the altar where he otherwise would have been stationed if the wedding was not already underway.
I saw him yank out his pipes and put reed to mouth to launch into “Here Comes the Bride” picking up the song where the organist had progressed.
There came from the church vestibule the most God-awful cacophony I’ve ever heard. A squealing akin to a cross between a bad timing belt on a Mack trunk and a screech owl at night. It was an arresting series of sounds. The processional stopped, the squealing stopped. The processional started up again. After about 5 seconds the squealing started, trying to follow along with the processional. This time, however, it was a softer squeal. Almost like it was coming from outside the church. It was, I learned later.
If purgatory had a national anthem, Evan would be a good choice to play it on his bagpipes.
Mercifully, the processional ended, everything quieted down and the ceremony continued. The recessional duet “All You Need Is Love,”was performed as scheduled. All things seemed almost normal. That was until Evan unilaterally decided to give everybody a bonus by playing “Amazing Grace” as everyone was leaving the church. He played it beautifully but it bestowed a funeral feel to the whole ceremony.
We all repaired to the church hall for the reception.While in the process of getting drunk Evan informed me that bagpipes shouldn’t be played when there’s an abrupt temperature change. The original squealing came from going from cold (bike ride and backpack) to warm (church vestibule). The softer squeal was when Evan took his pipes outside in the cold but they were warming up from their short visit to the vestibule. Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I never knew that, did you?
I told Evan that if I even had another relative who needed a piper for future wedding involvement, I’d ask Attorney General, Bill Barr. He probably wouldn’t be invited to the reception though.