Road Trip

Two cars, four friends (Malinda, Christy, Nancy and I) and five wrong turns later we made it to the hotel. The directions said one thing, road signs said something else (if they could be found)and between the four of us, it didn’t feel like we were headed south toward Nashua. Friday night, rush hour and the sun setting.

Suddenly, I felt directionally challenged, an experience that would plague five former Peace Corps volunteers throughout the entire weekend. No wonder the Peace Corps decided to put us on small islands in the Pacific.

On Saturday morning,sitting around the breakfast table, we decided traditional island mwarmwars were in order. After all, the groom is from the Federated States of Micronesia and we wanted him to honor him with a traditional head lei, and neck leis. But New England is short on coconut trees and tropical flowers, but this time of year it is rich in golden and red maple leaves and brilliant mums of many colors.

Brainstorming on a rainy fall morning some thought it was best not to raid the gardens surrounding the Marriott Courtyard (I was game). Instead, Malinda commanded the car and we headed out to find a Target. We needed plastic shipping bands from the back of the warehouse, to serve as the base for the mwarmwar (think mar-mar).
I convince Paul, a floor associate, to talk the store manager into giving us the warehouse trash. After a brief wait Paul retrieved fifteen feet of stripping from an overhead shelf in the warehouse. I had spotted it when Nancy and I were casually strolling through the tombs of Target like we owned the place. A quick stop at the florist and we were in business. Back at the hotel we constructed the head garlands while we commandeered the business center usually occupied by business and road warriors. You know, those guys who are as cool as the other side of the pillow. Later Nancy convinced the hotel staff to keep the flowers fresh in the kitchen’s refrigerator.
By then we had about thirty minutes before we needed to get in costume for the wedding. Not wanting to miss out on any of the hotel amenities, the five of us – Christy, Malinda, Amy, Nancy and I donned out bathing suits and hit the whirlpool. Unfortunately, my camera batteries were recharging-no photos. Nothing better than to bring old bones to a boil in the bubbling froth of jet streams while enjoying good company. Outside it was still raining.

Weeks ago Amy asked me if I would paint her for the party. Not having a better offer all year, I said yes, not knowing what body parts I might be applying brush tips to. Results were great, but her Trinidad Bound outfit will need a zipper repair.

So what was I? A Mardi Gras something or other. I was accused of being a pimp. Check out the 70's hat with cheetah print. Heck the costume was free compliments of Frank, Nancy’s son-in-law. Although the outfit was a little large and dancing required a constant readjustment to keep gravity from yanking my britches to the floor, I loved it.



Before, during and after. Completely sober.