The Wedding Zone, Part I

pstrong pbFriends and family of my brother and his fiancée are on their way, by car or by jet, to Las Vagas, Nevada. p/p/b/p/strong/p pDIV align="left" TABLE cellpadding="5"TR VALIGN="TOP"TD/td/trTR VALIGN="TOP"TD/td/trTR VALIGN="TOP"TDTR VALIGN="TOP"TD pby Joseph Bolden/p pThis column is dedicated to anyone born with a rotten sense of direction who dreads driving, walking, flying, or taking trains or other kinds transportation to destinations unknown. This is not for the know-it-alls who, with only vague approximations from others maintain perfect or near perfect powers of direction. Like the perfect pitch musicians and singers are gifted with, some of us have gifts in abundance while most can only look on admire this true talent./p pIt has taken me three weeks to get over my brother’s marriage, not the marriage itself, but gearing up for the special event and going to it./p pSuddenly there were new clothes to buy, work to be missed for a few days, money to be taken out of the bank, maps to be read, and studies to be done on how tospend less on food than gas./p pMy mother, brother, and I live in three separate areas of California—Fairfield, San Jose, and San Francisco. /p pIt is lucky for me that some years ago, while emptying trash from my one- room apartment there was a dirty brand name portable icebox. You know the kind, They are multi-colored and rubber-lined for water proofing when filled and perfect for keeping sandwiches, sodas, water, or whatever is placed inside in deep cold until ready for use./p pI was glad to have something of value to contribute, since I didn’t have enough money to buy gifts for the bride or broom on such short notice./p pPresent at the wedding were my immediate family, the couple to be wed, their close friends, and two more relatives from out of town. My mother bought me a complete suit that decked me out from head to toe as well as one for my brother./p pThe wedding was to take place in Las Vagas, Nevada. I will not name the hotel casino where we were because immediately after the wedding there was a medical emergency, It was one of the rare times I was glad that there were persons with cell phones who could call an ambulance for medical help./p pEven before that incident, two weeks before I was a nervous wreck worrying about gifts I could not buy, Do I have a gambler’s genes, or do I write about this another time. So many questions were swimming in my head as I rode the Richmond BART to the El Cerrito del Norte station.br / br /My mother picked me up at the station to drive me to Fairfield. All of my new clothes were in a clean, dry, aluminum-lined portable icebox whose brand name will remain unknown, since I don’t want to give a free plug unless it’s a charity or I’m paid a few dollars. The aluminum provides extra padding that will protect both the icebox and the new clothes within.br / br /At this point I have never used the icebox. I have only cleaned it. Its use as a carrying case is only for purposes of not damaging the clothes. At my mother’s home, I carefully took the clothes from the icebox and hung them up carefully. /p pI placed the icebox in the bathtub and took the foil out for reuse, before running water in it. Then I closed the box and let it sit./p pThis is the background, before my trip to Las Vagas, Navada.I dislike doing a second part to this; however, if I didn’t no one would believe how people with a map can go so wrong, both to and from Las Vagas, Nevada. But it is a true story./p pbPlease send donations to Poor Magazine C/0 Ask Joe at 255 9th St.Street, San Francisco, CA 94103 USAbr / For Joe only my snail mail: PO Box 1230 #645br / Market St. San Francisco, CA 94102br / Email:askjoe@poormagazine.org/b/p p/p/td/tr/td/tr/table/div/p