Brad Richardson and Mary Barras' Wedding (Nov. 10, 2001)

My best friend from about five years old on was Brad Richardson. He lived next door to me, had the same name as me and was born on the exact same day as me. We did everything together in those early days.

Come middle school Brad had moved further away, and while we still saw each other we drifted apart due to distance and the pressures of the teen years. Even after we went away to college we've gotten the occasional updates from our moms about what the other is up to, and this past November I went to Brad's wedding down in Austin, Texas. It was the first time I'd seen him in probably 12 years.

Excuse me, could you direct me to the end of the line?

OK, I'll admit it. I only got to the airport an hour and a half before my flight instead of two hours ahead. My last several flights had left me feeling cocky, and I figured if the lines were long then the powers that be would just pull us to the front of the line when our flight was about to leave anyway.

The line for ticketing only took me about half an hour, typical for Friday at 2:30. Then I started following the line for security, looking for the end. I followed the line down one wall, down the next, and down a long corridor. I started to worry as I followed it across the internal bridge that goes across the street to the parking garage. Then the line wound up and around the garage, going up past levels two and three, and finally snaking out the door and onto the fourth floor parking deck.

The airline had these people running up and down the line with yellow vests and big badges that said "Ask Me!" but it turns out they actually didn't know anything. About anything. Two things became clear though: I wasn't going to make my flight at this rate and they weren't pulling people out of line when their flights were up. I SMSed Jill and had her check the net; no more flights to Austin till 3am.

I didn't want to cut in line, but it had come down to being moral or making my flight. Finally, the guy ahead of me offered to save my place in line if I couldn't get in, and another guy on my flight went up to the front to see what was up. That was enough to convince me, and I made my move.

Once at the front it became clear that there was, in fact, no one to ask about cutting in line. OK, there was one airline guy at the front, but he was explaining to someone that there was nothing he could do and they do recommend coming at least two hours before departure. He looked busy, so I didn't ask. Instead I asked a passenger if they'd called the flight to Austin, and she said "Oh yeah! You should go right now!" So I shuffled into the line. One woman behind me was clearly miffed and confused (I was probably the third person to do this in front of her) and asked me "wait, how come you didn't wait in line?" I looked back and answered with a helpful tone "Austin flight..." as if that was an obvious answer to her question. Luckily, what they teach in Psychology 101 really does work; she just said "oh." and went away with a confused look on her face.

I was the last one to board the plane.

The Wedding


The wedding itself was in Buda, TX on a horse ranch. The ceremony and reception were both in an outdoor pavilion. This being only November, it was perfect temperature in the shade.

The ceremony itself was sweet and short. I'm hoping to get a copy of the vows from Brad. He and I have been reading similar sorts of philosophy the past many years, and the vows hearkened back to it.

The two Brads. It amazes me we both had the same number of years to grow.
The last time I met Lara (Brad's younger Sister, Geoff's age) she was about eight years old. I didn't recognize her until she put her hair into pig-tails for me.

The story goes that when Brad and Mary started dating he wouldn't call her his girlfriend. They were just "dating" he'd say. After many months of this he finally admitted it. "If it looks like a duck," he said, "and quacks like a duck, then it's probably a duck." Thus the ducks on the wedding cake.

A closeup. He's looking especially nonchalant, for a duck.

The Reception


This horse-farm really knows how to make a romantic setting.

I started taking random pictures at the reception. It's just bits, right? Here are some people I don't know. Cousins? Of someone?

Someone else I don't know.

I actually do know this gal. We played together in the sand box when I was about 8. We also danced a lot of swing at the wedding. Wish I could remember her name...

The happy couple had taken some dance lessons in prep for the wedding, and sprung a few moves during their first dance.

George Richardson, father of the groom. There wasn't a single point that weekend where he wasn't smiling.

I hear George doesn't dance much. You couldn't tell from this evening...

This gal was great. At one point she came up to me and said she'd always wanted to dance on the table and these tables were sturdy enough, and would I dance on the table with her. Of course I said yes (what, pass up an opportunity to dance on a table?) and we danced till the caterers asked us to get down.

There were a bunch of cute kids at the wedding. Before the dinner started we were all in the back teaching each other dance moves. This is a Charleston move that I taught them.

Something I learned from playing with these kids: boys are indeed different than girls. The younger one here in particular had infinite energy.

Another thing I learned: the old "watch me make this ring jump from this finger to this one" trick works on every kid younger than about nine years old, no matter how many times you repeat it. I tell that to adults and then show it to them; the ones who don't see how it's done look really embarrassed and don't say anything :).

Brent Richardson (mother of the groom) and someone I don't know. Brent looks really good nowadays (this picture doesn't really do her justice; that's my fault).

I think this is Brad's Boss and his wife & kid. At any rate it's someone with his wife and kid.

This time with four-part harmony and feeling.

Another guy I don't know. He's groovin' though.

The Trip Home


I just took this picture to pick on my friends in California. Gas prices have gone down though, so it doesn't work as well now.

I've been on four domestic trips and one international trip since September 11th. These guys have been everywhere. I'm not sure what they do, but boy do they look impressive. We're getting to be just like Frankfurt. You're not allowed to take pictures inside the security area, but since I was outside he said it was OK. (Heck yes I asked first!)

Having learned my lesson coming over I made sure to leave two hours before my flight coming back. Just goes to show you can't plan these things. Sigh.

On the trip home I stopped off at the Grand Canyon. Well, I didn't really stop, but I took pictures anyway. Even from the air it's hard to take in how enormously huge the thing is.