weekend
12
May 12
The big day
The deed is done. Wendy walked down the aisle on her father’s arm, in the same church where her parents were married 37 years ago. Her groom was down there, standing next to his sweating, gum-chewing best man, one of his brothers. Across from them was the maid of honor, of course, and between them all the old preacher, the man who married Wendy’s parents 37 years ago.
I didn’t take any pictures of the wedding. What I tried to shoot of the reception didn’t turn out very well. There is low lighting in the reception area of the 202-year-old country church. (I heard differing stories, but I’m going with this being the original location, but a slightly more modern building. I’m thinking post-1930s based on the architecture.)
This is the groom’s cake, a traditional thing I’ve come to loathe. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen one that looked nice. I’ve seen great feats of cakemanship, don’t get me wrong. I’ve seen Millennium Falcons, turtles and football stadiums all brought to life in amazing detail. At the end of the day, though, they were spaceships, reptiles and football stadiums.
And then there was this one. The groom is a Georgia fan.
But the bride is an Auburn alumnae. She secretly had the cake done up in orange and blue. The mother of the bride stood by me as they started to cut it.
“Watch this,” she said.
We thought she’d stab that dog in the eye, but it was a simple cut that brought about the desired reaction.
One of the groom’s brothers began to bark, because that’s what people from Georgia do. Someone started with the War Eagle reply, which turned into a loud cheer into on drowning out the offending canines.
One of the family’s guests took part, but he’s an Alabama fan. His golf cart, they say, is decked out in the script A and various other crimson clan signage. He found himself screaming War Eagle. Couldn’t help himself, he said. (Sometimes this college identity thing gets carried far, far overboard.)
The bride had a beautiful dress. Everyone looked lovely and happy.
It rained, which wasn’t ironic at all.
We met Big Will today. Brian, Elizabeth, Ashley, The Yankee and I stopped in his barbecue joint on the strength of reviews on Urban Spoon.
He walked over to our table to check on our lunch.
Big Will is a retired millwright, who walked away from the machining business after 23 years to open this restaurant last year. He started barbecuing, he said, after his son got in a car accident. He’d felt a need to come up with something his family could do together.
His future daughter-in-law waited on us. His daughter played a guitar and sang. She was great. She’d even appeared on American Idol, they said.
He’s working 17-hour days, making the most lean brisket you’ve ever seen. He’s got a great pork plate — the standard by which you judge any barbecue joint. It just got better as you went on.
His menu boasted the best potato salad in Jackson. I can confidently say it is the best potato salad I’ve ever had in that fine town. The baked beans were just about the best thing ever. It’s the toughest job he’s ever had, he said, and has brought his whole family together.
Just a super nice guy. Everyone there was great, genuine, earnest, good folks. You meet them and you realize how badly you want them to succeed. I’d eat there all the time if we were local.
So the next time you’re in Jackson, stop by for a bite. Tell Big Will hello.
6
May 12
Catching up
The weekly effort to pad the site with cheap content, where we take pictures that haven’t landed here, Twitter or Tumblr this week.
I did not get this card, but I took pictures of it at the store — I’m that guy. It is a Mother’s Day card, but since this a family site I can’t repeat the punchline:
We had pancakes this morning, not these, but in honor of a delicious breakfast, I share with you a mix that was made for Halloween:
I do not recommend getting much closer than this for your grilling pictures:
Much more this coming week, I’m sure.
5
May 12
Ump: Who said that? Who’s there?
Buck Belue quarterbacked Georgia to a national championship in 1980. He’s a legend for all of that, but this was really what makes people remember him more than 30 years later:
He also played baseball at Georgia, batting .356 which, as we learned in Bull Durham, is a career in any league. He played in the Expos organization for three years and that’s how he finds himself in broadcasting in Atlanta today, trading on his considerable name power and sports knowledge to make a fine career.
One of his side projects is to call a bit of college baseball on television, as he did today. Auburn was busy losing to Georgia, and Belue was making fun of the Tigers, but also pointing out every questionable call questionable umpires were making. Those guys haven’t had a weekend. (That sentence applies to both Auburn and the umpires.)
So I poked fun at Buck Belue on Twitter for making fun of the umpires. He said “Dude blew the call.”
And the dude did. It was a call that should have gone in favor for Georgia — a swipe tag at second that happened right in front of the properly positioned umpire — but I calls ’em likes I sees ’em. This umpire …
… sometimes he doesn’t see ’em.
(Sorry … it’s just … those glasses … )
Auburn lost Friday night in a game which featured good starting pitching for Auburn and no bats — Georgia’s starting pitcher had a great game. Then there was an unfortunate sixth inning which saw four Auburn pitchers allow two hits, four walks, a hit batsman and four runs in a 5-2 loss.
Tonight’s game saw errors three spread across 11 innings, in a 6-5 Auburn loss that featured more bad calls from the same umpire crew. The guy above was behind the plate last night and he blew a call that would have scored a key run for Auburn. He’s had a tough weekend.
Hope yours, though, has been lovely.
29
Apr 12
Catching up
Welcome to the portion of the site where we throw a bunch of photos up, show them off for the first time and call it a day.
This is from the wedding reception yesterday. The Yankee hanging out with a bunch of her former students. They’re a nice group. Very funny. They’re mugging for the official photographer. I’m just butting in here:
I discussed the bouquet toss, so it is only fair to show the garter. This might be the first one I’ve seen where more than one person was interested in catching it:
Our local baseball vendor. He “don’t sell to no Tennessee fans.” He has enough patter to go about six innings without repeating himself. Makes a lot of money off those jokes, too.
We have to do this one every year, and today was the perfect opportunity to sneak it in. Hot, bright and not a cloud in the sky for our reflection picture of Samford Stadium-Hitchcock Field at Plainsman Park. Auburn has runners on the corners and is about to turn this game into a blowout to sweep the weekend series:
