This past weekend was like a triple decker sundae of various delights, and the first was the wedding of two Carthage grads, Audrey Henning and Joe Torcaso (a former voice student of mine) – whose splendid wedding was followed by an absolutely spectacular and fun-filled reception. But for all that went off exactly as planned, there were a couple of unexpected complications that are worth talking about . . . especially for the valuable lessons to be learned from them.
The first came Friday when I was ran off from an important Carthage Choir rehearsal (dress rehearsal for today’s parents’ weekend concert) in order to get to the wedding rehearsal down at Our Lady of Mount Carmel. (This was a Catholic wedding with all the fancy trimmings- and I was both playing and doing almost all of the singing, so this was a rehearsal I really needed to attend.) Imagine my horror as I first walked out the door (in the pouring rain), reached into my pants pocket, and found that my car keys weren’t there. My Carthage work keys are there, big as life, jingling cheerfully, but not my car keys. I went digging into every pocket – twice – but no car keys. I went running down to my office and began a frantic search through the rubble which is my office right now . . . but no keys anywhere. I then remembered that tenor Andrew Johnson had left the same Carthage Choir rehearsal I had to go to the same wedding rehearsal (he was a groomsman) and I realized that if I could catch him, I could get a ride from him- and figure out the rest of this mess later. I went tearing up the stairs and out into the pouring rain – yelled “Andrew!” at the top of my lungs, but no answer. He appeared to be long gone.
Bound and determined to get to this rehearsal, I ran back down to my office (remember, I did have my Carthage keys) and found a wire hanger on my coat tree. As I ran back up the stairs, I began pulling the thing apart, all the while remembering with some fondness the many times over the years when I’d broken into various automobiles (always my own, I assure you!) under similar circumstances. But it took me only about 15 seconds in the pouring rain to realize that a 2007 Hundyai Santa Fe is like an impenetrable Fort Knox vault compared to my first car, a ’67 Plymouth Duster, which you could almost break into just by sneezing right. There was no way that a coat hanger was going to get me into my car. For a moment or two I thought about smashing in one of the windows, and all that stopped me was: 1) the pouring rain, and 2) the thought of explaining the shattered window to Kathy. And by the way, Andrew drove by at that moment (his car had been parked much further away than mine) – and as soon as I realized it, I tried waving him down, but it was dark and raining and he never saw me.
And then I realized that there were probably music students in and around Siebert Chapel, in anticipation of that night’s concert by the Atlantic Brass Quintet. Muttering G-rated curses out of one side of my mouth and reverent prayers out of the other, I raced up to Siebert and found four or five students in the lobby – including several of my own voice students. “Who wants to save my life?” I asked them, meaning it more literally than they probably even knew. “I do!” thundered one of my amazing sophomore voice students, Mike Anderle. “Just tell me what we have to do!” Spoken like the son of a U.S. veteran! We went racing for his car, and he very kindly drove me to the wedding rehearsal- and I managed to walk in about 6:33, just over a half hour after the rehearsal began, just as they were getting ready for a final walk-through of the processional. So my timing was pretty much impeccable, thanks to Mike.
I ended up riding to the rehearsal dinner (at the Italian American Club) with the groom’s sister & husband, Rita and Ben- and after one of the most amazing meals of my entire life, Andrew Johnson drove me back to Carthage, where I took in the last portion of the brass concert and just tried to keep catching my breath. And Mike Anderle, bless his heart, kindly offered to drive me home to Racine- insisting that he had a meatloaf to pick up from his mom, so it was not even a special trip. Whether or not that was a fib, I don’t care. All I know is that Mike got me home, which is exactly where I wanted and needed to be. And once Kathy got home from an evening excursion out to Burlington, she offered to drive me down to Carthage so I could let myself into my car with her spare key – and get this little mess fixed. So that’s what we did, with the two golden retrievers in the back seat – and off we went, one big happy family . . . and I was reminded all over again that a little kindness, whether from a student or friend or spouse, is more precious than anything. So for as maddening as this little mess was while I was still thrashing around, trying to fix it, I’m thankful that it ended up making me the recipient of some great kindness from several different good samaritans.
As for the wedding itself, I can think of one snag which in some ways offered up a similar sort of blessing. The ring bearer for this wedding was Vince Gentile, the young son of Rita and Ben . . . and while he did fantastically well at the rehearsal, waltzing down that aisle like an old pro, when it came to the wedding itself, he absolutely refused to walk down that aisle. Maybe if there had been a slightly older and mildly bossy flower girl walking down the aisle with him, he would have been okay. But by himself? Nope. No way. At that moment, two things happened: his mom, Rita (Audrey’s matron of honor) headed halfway down the aisle to coax him, and when that didn’t work, she made her way all the way to the back of the sanctuary, and proceeded to walk him all the way to the front. And up front, his Uncle Joe (the groom) sort of knelt down on his haunches, smiling at his young nephew and gesturing in a sweet and welcoming way. It was actually a wonderful moment in which careful choreography evaporated like that and it just became a moment of love between mother and son . . . and love between uncle and nephew. And it was a reminder that sometimes Plan B yields something far more memorable and precious than our own Plan A ever could.
pictured above: Rita Gentile walks her young son, the ring bearer, up the aisle. If you look closely, you can see the groom up front, encouraging his nephew to come join the fun. (And by the way, I had indeed locked my keys in the car. What happened is that I was fortunate enough Friday morning to find an opening parking space right next to the building in which I teach – but my faculty parking badge, which was supposed to be hanging from my rear view mirror, was missing. Not wanting to be ticketed by one of Carthage’s over zealous security guards, I decided to scribble a note and place it on my dashboard, explaining who I was and why there was no parking badge. Actually, security has a list of license plates for all so-called Permitted Vehicles. And further, they only have to take one glance and can probably discern from the mountains of debris inside that this car was mine. Anyway, in just that rather brief and simple interruption of my typical morning parking routine, I ended up locking my keys in the car. But if I hadn’t had my moment of careless idiocy, I never would have been the cause of Mike Anderle’s good deeds for the day!