Some part of me is still surprised when I hang out with a couple who really works together. Granted, this might be me speaking from the twisted lump of scar tissue where my heart should be, but I find it's a rare thing. Every now again again, though, even I have to admit that a certain couple is just smashing. They think the other person is just the coolest. They genuinely try not to hurt each other. And while I might not have ever put them together in my mind had I met or known them separately, once I see them together it makes perfect sense.
Chris and Sandy are one of those couples. They're endlessly patient with one another. Both of them want the other to succeed as an artist. They're also two hilarious, tough, one-of-a-kind people who haven't lost a shred of their identities in sharing their lives with each other. They've always been a pleasure to know and a hoot to hang out with.
This past weekend I was honoured to attend their wedding. It took place in Vancouver, and the Calgary people poured in to town to celebrate with them. Local friends had their couches and floors and spare rooms filled with friends. We barbecued and and danced, argued and drank. The feeling of goodwill, of vicarious joy, was absolutely overwhelming. There was not a cynic unmoved. We all agreed that someone should get married every year out West, if only so we can have a smashing reunion.
There was sushi at night and delightfully greasy breakfast at noon. There was hiking and catching crabs and falling into a blackberry patch at Lighthouse Park. There was beer and wine and beer again, and pitchers and pitchers of mojitos. There was exquisite weather and a view of the mountains. There was even some metal.
Thank you Jordan and Summer for letting me (and GoVo and Jill and Paul) crash at your place. Thank you to all my friends from afar and before for reminding me that my time in Calgary was pretty fucking awesome. And thank you most of all to Chris and Sandy, for being wonderful together. Nostrovia.