Those idle hands...

Last night, class was cancelled. Left with seven hours of free time, one would think I'd find plenty of things to catch up on. Since I've been so busy lately, I wasn't in a rush to do anything that sounded remotely like work. I still haven't placed the order for new computer parts yet, so the computer is still broken. Rather then sit home and watch television, I decided to take the Lexus out for a spin under the rubric of "familiarizing myself" with the car since it's still new to me. ;)

So, I drove around enjoying the car's smooth ride. Around 9:30 that night, I found myself on the north shore of Long Island, in Huntington village to be precise. For a Thursday night in summer, there were a great number of people walking around frequenting the many bars and pubs there. With the intention of simply walking around and taking in the sights, I parked my car, stopped at the Starbucks and bought myself a cappuccino.

Even though there was a threat of thunderstorms, they never materialized. The humidity had dropped and the weather was cool and comfortable. Despite the weather, everyone walking about had ankle length pants on. How could I forget that I was in the fashion conscious part of the world? I looked a bit out of place wearing a t-shirt and shorts, but I didn't care.

In any event, with the weather being so nice, I must have walked every block in a half mile radius from where I parked. Some blocks, I walked two or more times just watching people walking about conversing, drinking, dancing or flirting. I enjoyed the opportunity to simply be able to stroll about sometimes peering into shop windows at items I couldn't afford right now.

As I walked about, the bars were blasting music out of their open doors, and I could see people socializing inside. I watched people pause momentarily and size me up before returning to their conversations. And as I walked past them, I didn't even try hiding my amused smile. I was amused because I knew many of these people were trying to figure out why I was smiling. How does that adage go? Idle hands are the...

It's funny how a smile can cause people to think that you know something about them or know something that they feel they should know. Amazing how human intuition arrives at suspicion so easily. I once tried this experiment with a girl who I worked with and I can't help but laugh now as I remember her reaction. I didn't know her very well, but she was pretty, perhaps a bit nosy as well. When she glanced my way, I smiled at her. One of those beaming smiles full of mischief.

She immediately stopped what she was doing and asked me what I was smiling about. I told her that there was no reason for me to smile. For the next five minutes, she spent that time questioning me, insisting that I had to be smiling about something. I laughingly repeated my answer in a number of different ways. Finally, she threw her hands up in frustration and went back to doing what she had been doing before I distracted her.

So, as I walked around being sized up by girls and guys alike, I smiled. I smiled that mischievous smile that had them looking in askance as I passed them by. It was so easy to distract them and yes, I can be easily amused. No alcohol passed my lips last night, but I still had a good time.

I have to admit, it was a fun way to pass the night. By far, much more interesting than figuring out what little silicon gates are supposed to be doing when you change the voltage or current. I may have to make a habit of this. *grin*

Things being as they are.

I'm writing this post from my laptop instead of my desktop because like everything else this year, it had to break at an inopportune time. The cpu has been acting strange lately, freezing or shutting down without notice. I've lost three posts since Friday, and I am starting to lose my patience (not to mention my temper) with this computer. It is time for a replacement, as it is nearly seven years old. It'll be interesting to see where I'll be able to find funds for this.

Much as I'd like to write something interesting, I am so put out with my computer that I really don't feel like writing anything. I have to go shopping for another system, and once that is complete, I'll begin posting again. I may manage to post some from my laptop, however, with things as they are, I can't make any promises.

In a week or two, I should have the new rig up and running, and posts (as well as comments) shall spring forth hence. I may even try logging in on campus if I can. Until then, everybody keep writing.

Are you a good listener?

I've been guilty of not reading the usual group of blogs that I normally read, much less commenting of late. Part of the reason is that I've been working on my tan at the local beach (I really need to get rid of the farmer's tan). Add to this reason, staying on top of the school work, trying to keep up with friends who are near and some that are afar, as well as the height of busy season at work, and I have had little time to spend online.

My advancement at this company has been very quick, I might even say meteoric. I have been placed on that short list of people to call first for gigs. For a month now, I have had four, five, sometimes even six gigs every weekend. Which, of course, means that I hardly have free time anymore.

Supposedly, things will slow down in a few weeks, which may or may not be a good thing for me finacially, but it would give me more time to do other things. I can't say that I have tired of doing the things I am doing, and there is even a chance I may gain assistance in becoming a professional photographer. If this opportunity pans out, I might stand to make some considerable sums of money.

Yet, through it all, I have been taking those pockets of time, when things slowed down enough for me to breathe, to contemplate a bit. Lately, I have been pondering on a particular subject. What makes a good listener? I'm sure everyone has his or her own idea of what makes a good listener. Good eye contact, remembers past conversations, doesn't interrupt or interject unless the talker expects a response, keeps secrets well or doesn't gossip, etc.

I have the fortune to work with a great number of different people through the many engagements that I am assigned to. This includes the members of my crew, the DJs, emcees, dancers, catering people, bands, and the people who attend the parties. Something that I thought to be an isolated occurance in working with so many different people is the willingness they have to share their personal stories. And when I mean personal, I mean the things that cause those uneasy silences in conversations.

I wonder what part of my demeanor tells people that I am willing to hear about their lives in such graphic detail. And, when I say that they are telling their stories in such detail, they really are being as graphic as possible. Whether its several of the dancers telling me the number of men (and women) they've slept with, a DJ telling me about his relationship with one of the dancers, the emcee who worried that his girlfriend would find out that he had hooked up with some girl at a party, one of the male dancers telling me about his girlfriend's (someone I work with!) favorite sexual positions or the young assistant who insisted that we stop at a pharmacy so that she could pick up her morning after pills. I joke occasionally that I don't need to watch the tv soaps because it's all happening around me.

Some of the things I hear make it hard for me to look at people quite the same way again. How do you pretend that things are the same when you work with a girl whose favorite positions have been catalogued in detail? Can one pretend that this young assistant with the need for morning after pills is still "innocent"? Exactly how would one look that emcee's girlfriend in the eye when one finally meets her? Or look at that physically desirable dancer who has had nearly triple digit partners and be able to not think less of her because of her promiscuity? (On the bright side, I might learn a few things from her...)

Gossip abounds quickly within this company I work for. I have lost count of the number of people who have sworn me to secrecy over things they have divulged to me without my desire to know about. Some part of my physical features must give people that comfortable feeling where they can tell me things that would be quite juicy gossip and trust that I will hold it close. Yet how much can I hear before something unintentionally slips out?

So, I wonder what makes a good listener for the simple reason that I want it wiped off my face before I learn any more juicy tidbits. I suppose I want to think the best of people, and it's rather hard to do so when you hear all their dirty laundry passed around like stories around a campfire. I also wonder how soon before something about me starts making the rounds.

One Saturday night out on the town

I had written this great post earlier today, unfortunately, thanks to LIPA's rolling brownouts, my computer rebooted before I could save it as a draft. I had just finished it too. Being the engineer that I am, I finally got off my procrastinating butt and put the computer on the uninterruptible power system (UPS for short) that I had sitting in my room for countless months. Then I realized that I would be late for work. Here is attempt number two, which I'll begin with a short recap of this weekend and some thoughts then move on to what I thought was an interesting Saturday night.

Fortunately, nothing too terrible happened this weekend, I didn't need the backup like I did last weekend. This weekend, I did two weddings, two mitzvahs and an eighth grade graduation party tonight. It's been amazing, moving from one pocket of teenage kids to the next pocket, all celebrating the coming of age of one child and seeing the gamut of how well or misbehaved the kids can be.

I anticipated the barely teenaged children at this graduation being spawns of a certain fallen angel and getting mobbed by them. It turned out that the kids were fine and well behaved too. It happened to be the adults who were the misbehaved ones. One set of parents almost getting into a fight with another over who was first on line for their picture to be taken with their child. I told my assistant to grab the second camera and we took both of their pictures together and that seemed to quiet things down.

Another thing that amazed me is how physically mature many of these girls looked. If I hadn't been told that these were eighth graders, I would have mistaken it for a high school prom. They were dressed the same and except for the occasional short kid, I'm sure many others would have mistaken them for older children. Many of these boys were taller than my five foot nine inches.

Otherwise, things went mostly smoothly, except for the usual snafus that the lack of proper attention to detail causes. (Something I may put together in a separate post where I lambast my warehouse guys.) By usual, I mean that things that were supposed to be in the gear we used were missing. Who ever heard of not sending smart media cards along with the digital cameras that needed them?

Saturday night ended before midnight, which meant that I had three or four hours of "awake" time that I couldn't go to sleep for and had nothing better to do. I had to drive back home from Weschester, and didn't want to sit in traffic that I knew would be there at this time of night. I called some friends who I knew had made plans to be in the city, they told me where they were and I drove in to meet them.

Upon arriving, I met up with three friends and one woman who was the fiancee of one of these guys. Hereafter, the woman will go by the false name of Renee. They had already been drinking for a couple of hours and when I met them, they told me their plans for the rest of the evening. Yep, we were going a strip club to get my friend's fiancee, Renee, a lap dance. And since I had a car with me, I was now the designated driver.

Just imagine the five of us. Three guys wearing polo shirts and jeans, Renee wearing a tanktini and tight fitting jeans and me in my black dress shirt and black pants walking from the bar to a strip joint. When we finally got seated, we were told that there was a three drink minimum. For the amount we paid to get in and what they were charging for drinks, I would have rather gone to Webster Hall.

My friends opted to get a bottle of liquor instead. I had the obligitory first drink with them, and sipped soda for the rest of the night. My three friends proceeded to finish that bottle off. Renee immediately got her lap dance, which pleased the guys to no end. She seemed ok with it, but then again, I'm not marrying her, so I didn't have to hear the end of it.

I wasn't sleepy, but I was physically tired. I commented to my friends that at that point, I'd rather have a back rub over a front rub. Apparently, this was a challenge to my friends, who proceeded to get me three different exotic dancers to dance on my lap. The oddest part of this is that each of these girls approached me and pretty much ignored my friends. I suspect that they noticed that I had a nicer cut of clothing and that meant I had money to spend. I hope that was really the reason they kept asking me if I wanted a dance. I certainly am not good looking enough to have women falling at my feet.

Between the dances I received, I watched what the girls were doing on stage. To be perfectly honest, the only differences in dancing style I noticed centered on the brass pole attached to the stage and that these dancers had less clothing on. The hip shakes, the pelvic thrusts, and the upper body shake were all there. If some of the party guests at some of the engagements I have done recently wore less clothing, it would have been about the same to me.

Of course, I am not a dancer, and have never been trained as a dancer, so feel free to point out the nuances I missed in my observations. Don't get me wrong, many of the party guests didn't have the assets that some of these exotic dancers were displaying. It's just what things seemed like to me.

After the third dance I received courtesy of my helpful friends, my biggest friend, who weighs in just shy of three hundred pounds, became a little too boisterous from all the alcohol he had consumed. We called it a night shortly thereafter and I drove everyone home. As soon as I got home, I had to wash the cheap perfume and sweat out of my clothes. Otherwise, it would have been interesting for me to explain to the kids at that second mitzvah why I smelled like that. ;)

Am I the one?

Hrmmm. I could be the one? Naaah. I'd much rather fly the Millenium Falcon and wield a light saber. Though it would be interesting if I could also hold out my hand and stop a charging machine.

It's going to be another busy weekend. I don't get to stop until late Monday night. I'm also hoping that there are no more mishaps this weekend. I'm making sure I bring a back up for the back up...

You scored as Nebuchadnezzar (The Matrix). You can change the world around you. You have a strong will and a high technical aptitude. Is it possible you are the one? Now if only Agent Smith would quit beating up your friends. Nebuchadnezzar (The Matrix) 75% Millennium Falcon (Star Wars) 75% Enterprise D (Star Trek) 69% Bebop (Cowboy Bebop) 69% Serenity (Firefly) 69% Galactica (Battlestar: Galactica) 69% SG-1 (Stargate) 69% Babylon 5 (Babylon 5) 63% Deep Space Nine (Star Trek) 63% Moya (Farscape) 56% Andromeda Ascendant (Andromeda) 50% FBI's X-Files Division (The X-Files) 50% Your Ultimate Sci-Fi Profile II: which sci-fi crew would you best fit in?

Unnecessary respect and envy

Much to my amusment and partly to my dismay, my unexpected need to search for a new car has taken me on a journey of varied trials, and finally to settle on a nice luxury car. I've only had the car for a mere two weeks, and I can already say that I could not be happier about my purchase. I have to admit that having the windows down, sunroof open, and the music blaring as I headed down to the beach has been very satisfying. Having a vehicle which you can feel the acceleration push you back into your (leather) seat when you floor it has probably had me smiling near continuously since I bought it.

I had to move my friend's car a few days back and as soon as I sat in that cloth covered driver's seat, I knew that I had already become accustomed to being able to slide right into the leather wrapped seat where the leather just guides you right into that perfect spot. One would think that being in such a slippery seat would not be fun or stable when one chose to throw that car around a few fast turns. I tested this theory and found that the seat kept me in the same spot just as well as my old cloth covered seat did. *grin* I have yet to find something that this car can't handle.

As many know, the parent company of Lexus is Toyota. So, the mechanical parts of my car are basically Toyota Camry and Avalon parts. In fact, when you lift the hood up, the word Toyota is all over the place. I looked up the repair manual for the car and I was referred to the Camry manual. For the most part, when the ES model is updated, the old model gets turned into a Camry.

So, I am very aware of the fact that I am really driving a Camry in disguise. What I am currently taking great amusement out of is the fact that the key fob with the golden "L" in a circle has garnered me a large amount of respect and envy. If I empty out my pockets, I can see people's attitudes instantly change when they see this status symbol that is associated with wealth. I imagine this is akin to dressing up in a business suit and getting better service.

I have had women that I've met for the first time ask me what I drive, and when I tell them, they suddenly are very interested in what I do for a living, where I live, and one even asked me how much money I made. There's nothing to do but keep these types of women at arms length as far as I am concerned. The funny thing about trying to stay away from them is how persistent they become as they try to get closer to me.

What's even funnier in my eyes is when I humbly proclaim that I drive a Lexus and these people think I am even wealthier than I appear to be. One person told me to stop being so blase about owning a thirty thousand dollar luxury vehicle. I burst out laughing right there. To stop this guy from getting angry at me, I told him how much I paid for the car and he declared that he was going out shopping for a used Lexus.

I guess that what was truly unexpected about owning this Lexus is the amount of unnecessary respect and envy I have encountered. I am truly enjoying every moment I have driven the car, and since this car came with a one year warranty, I don't have to worry about it for at least that amount of time. All I have to do is drive, put in gas and change the oil. Now how great is that?

As for the person who requested a picture of it, I will get one taken as soon as I give the Lexus a carwash and a gleaming coat of wax. I promise. Now if only the weather would cooperate.

Some lessons learned this past weekend

In my last post, I determined to stop writing about the people at the engagements I've worked at. Additionaly, I also decided to write what I learned while working those gigs. Unhappily, the lessons I learned all centered on this one gig where everything just went wrong.

I was sent in with my crew, with only one task: Set up a projector, a projection screen, and a Sony Playstation 2 so that the kids could play the popular game Dance Dance Revolution. This meant that I had to be ready before any guests arrived, but also meant that I was only working for an hour during the gig before packing it all away. In fact, I learned later on that this game was the only game that the guest of honor wanted for her party.

We had arrived a bit late but I still managed to have everything assembled with 15 minutes to spare. The only thing left was to adjust the projector so that it would fill the projection screen. As I started to adjust the angle of the projector, the video from the playstation stopped being displayed on the screen.

I started to fiddle with the wires, thinking that I must have knocked something loose. After discovering that they were still connected, I replaced the video wire to see if it was the issue. Still nothing on the screen. At this point, I noticed the projector was getting very warm. It didn't concern me because I knew this particular brand of projector, and knew that it had a tendency to run hotter than other brands. Throughout my testing process, I could still hear the audio coming out of the Playstation.

As I continued to trouble shoot, moving the wires around, changing from RCA adapter to S-video cable, the guests started to filter into the room. The kids all jumped up and down in excitement over the prospect of playing this game. I told them that I wasn't ready yet, and it would be up in a few minutes, trying to stall for some time. The projector decided that now was a good time to shut down. I could smell that burnt circuit smell and I knew that I would need another projector.

Of course, as Murphy's Law would have it, we weren't assigned a back up projector. So, with this going on, I told my emcee what had happened. He called the production manager to see if we could get another projector. The emcee handed his cel phone over to me, and I was asked to explain what had gone on, which I did. I also explained that I had powered up the projector at the warehouse to make sure it worked before leaving.

He got off the phone with me and called his boss, who also was the owner of the company. And as the saying goes, as the trouble starts rising, the brown stuff starts rolling down hill. I received a phone call on my cel phone from the owner, who asked me why I didn't bring a back up after I had explained again what had gone wrong. I observed that I wasn't assigned a back up and wasn't told to ever bring one. He told me that I should always have a back up. He got off the phone and called the warehouse manager to bring another projector to me.

He called me back and told me to call the warehouse manager to make sure we were on the same page. He also told me that I now had to run the game during the entire party. This meant that instead of packing up and leaving early, I was stuck until the party ended. Which meant that my plans for the evening were now derailed.

The warehouse manager was on his day off, which he had decided to do a gig of his own so that he could make more money than the company paid him. So, when I called him as I had been directed to do, he was upset and yelled at me for not taking a back up. This was the same guy who had admonished me not to take equipment I wasn't assigned. Eventually, he got there, and the second projector worked fine.

After this fiasco, there were two things I learned. One is to always bring a back up even if you know the equipment works, and the second is to know that some rules are made to be broken. The latter lesson is something that disappoints me, since I may discover that by breaking this particular rule will earn me more trouble from the warehouse manager. Especially since it is his job to make sure we bring everything in the first place.

As for the evening plans, I made it there in enough time to participate in the festivities with my friends at a barbeque, even if there wasn't as much food left. Sometimes you just can't win.

Trying to become great.

I suspect that I am probably going to stop mentioning what I am doing on the weekends. After reviewing my most recent posts, I am seeing how little else I'm writing about. Especially since the subject matter of what I am writing is about other people's affairs and not about my own thoughts. Which has certainly given me a lot of fodder to write about.

However, I recall this quote by Tobias Gibson which is the driving factor in my decision:

Great people talk about Ideas.

Average people talk about Things.

Small people talk about other people.

It's probably a bit harsh for me to say or think, as we all talk about other people at some time or another. Yet, I think I would rather write about ideas and my own thoughts. In a way, I think that my thoughts and what I see every weekend are deeply intertwined. I guess I'll have to think on it some more.

The difficulty is that everything I do on weekends now has to do with attending other people's affairs. Whether it's a posh soiree in the Hamptons or a interminable double mitzvah, most of my time is spent recovering from the heavy duty workouts I do during load in and set up. Either that or catching up on the missed sleep because of a late night getting back from a gig followed by an early morning at the warehouse to do the next gig. There are gigs where I am busy from the moment we arrive to the time we pack up and leave.

Too little time thinking and too much time doing things. Perhaps, instead of writing about what other people are doing, I will write about the things I learned. If nothing else, that will force me to think and gather my thoughts into some coherency. We shall see after tonight whether I can pull something together or if exhaustion catches up to me.

Be kind to spiders?

I admit it, I was bored today. I gave in to one of my vices. I just want to know how the heck catwoman, supergirl and wonder woman came in this survey. Then again, if I looked like Tobey Maguire.... ;)

Your results:
You are Spider-Man

Spider-Man 85% The Flash 65% Iron Man 60% Superman 60% Hulk 60% Catwoman 55% Green Lantern 55% Supergirl 53% Batman 50% Robin 30% Wonder Woman 28%

You are intelligent, witty, a bit geeky and have great power and responsibility.

Click here to take the Superhero Personality Quiz

Another busy weekend

Just got home after doing another wedding tonight and two mitzvahs in a row on Saturday. Both mitzvahs were in the same location, a multi-level catering hall that had a ramp that lead straight into the room, which was nice, since we only had to set up and break down once. The wedding was in a catering hall on the water and also had a ramp right into the main room. It almost makes up for the weekends with nothing but stairs.

Once again, I was a photographer at both mitzvahs, held for a girl and then a boy, but had almost the same group of children, so I saw many of them twice. It amused me to see that the girls changed dresses between the parties. The boys, on the other hand, merely divested themselves of their jackets and ties.

One unhappy reality with taking photos at a gig full of kids is that you always get mobbed by people who want their photo taken. Whether it's the overbearing parents who want their family photo taken or the same group of kids wanting to have their photos taken over and over again in different poses, the line to take the pictures is unending. If the party is five hours long, I will be taking photos right until the last half-hour, and printing pictures well after the party is over.

For the first time since starting this job, I almost let my temper get the better of me. During the first mitzvah, I had some boys come up to me and declare that I was their "gangsta" and when I walked past them to get the next group of people, they would actually slap me in the back as hard as possible. They never knew how close they came to becoming seriously injured for their transgressions.

After the party ended and all the guests had left, I finally let my anger out of the cage and let out a stream of vituperation that was at odds with the usual demeanor that my fellow co-workers knew of me. What I really wanted to do was take my elbow and smash it into their faces as I walked by. Oh how badly I wanted to hurt them.

Of course, to my great displeasure, I found out that the same group of kids were in the second party. The bartender mentioned that this same group of troublemakers had snuck behind the bar and stole a bottle of alcohol. While the bottle was recovered, their troublemaking didn't stop there. The bartender was mixing several drinks and one guest had stepped away after ordering a L.I. Tea, which is a five shot drink in a glass, and one of the kids grabbed the drink and downed half of it before the bartender noticed.

I found out immediately who the kid was, because he was the one who looked sick to the stomach for much of the evening. Einstein has this great quote about the universe and human stupidity being infinite, and not being sure about the universe being infinite. As I type this, I can't help but agree. (Not to mention the chuckle I got from seeing that kid's well deserved distress.) The rest of the troublemakers, however, were fortunate, since they made no more attempts to swipe some mixed drinks from the bar. They were also fortunate to stay clear of me for most of the night.

Tonight, I was responsible for setting up the lighting for the wedding. My company rents these mood lights that slowly change color, which the wedding couple ordered. As I had almost finished taping down the wires (this room had six double doors), the owner of the catering hall demanded that we remove the wires from his black carpet, citing that they were a trip hazard and unsightly as well as messing up his carpet. After being shouted at by the owner, who kept saying it was his house and he didn't care what the client had requested, we compromised with setting up the lights on the walls near the DJ booth and using as little tape as possible.

Which meant I had to undo all the tape I had just laid down. I ended up using small bits of tape to hold the wires down as they went around corners. After I had peeled the tape up and had nearly finished re-taping the wires down, the bridal party entered with six or seven children in tow. As the kids ran back and forth on the dance floor, we finished our set up for the wedding.

While the bridal party had their wedding pictures taken, I noticed a group of the children, a boy and two girls, were near one of the mood lights. I realized that one of the girls was trying to lift the other girl, who was about eighteen to twenty four months old, but couldn't manage it. I walked over and the older girl said that the baby girl had fallen and wouldn't get back up. I picked up the baby girl and got her back on her feet. As I reset the wire they had disturbed, the baby girl made a bee line for one of the mood lights.

I turned around and put my arm out to prevent her from touching the light. With my arm held out, she used my arm as a support. I just let her stand there as she stared at the bright lights that slowly changed color. Maternal instincts being what they are, as soon as the baby girl stood there for a minute or two, her mother came swooping in and snatched the baby up. As the mother walked away, she admonished the older girl to tell her when the baby was doing something she wasn't supposed to, without a glance back at me. I held in a smile, imagining that her real thoughts were along the lines of who and why this strange man was near her baby girl.

Since I wasn't taking photos (I am truly thankful that I didn't have to do this three times in a row!), I broke out a book and sat out on the covered patio reading as the guests partied. The musical requests ranged from classic hip hop to salsa and merengue. Perhaps more amusing to me, as the wedding reception ended, we were told that they didn't have the balance of the bill for us. Which means that they pretty much stiffed us on the bill. It didn't bother me all that much, as I would still get paid, but I don't want to be in the emcee's shoes tomorrow morning.

Well, it's time to turn in. It's been another busy weekend and I've got classes tomorrow, so I need to get some sleep.

What's with the long wait?

I just drove home in the pouring rain, returning from another wedding gig in my new (used) Lexus, and I haven't driven in such a downpour in years. If you've ever been in Florida during a heavy rain, the rain tonight was nearly as bad. There weren't any cars pulled over to the side of the road, but everybody drove thirty five to forty miles per hour and stayed in the center lane.

After driving that tiny Corolla for nearly eight years, I could feel the difference the additional nine hundred plus pounds had on handling. Instead of having my tires batted to one side because of the puddle I just drove through, the Lexus just plowed right through it. I no longer had to fight the steering wheel as the added friction of the water turned the steering wheel into a collision course with the curb.

Still, it was very unsafe to be driving out in this downpour. It probably didn't help to have all those suv's with four wheel drive breathing down everyone's neck as we tried to navigate through the rain. Supposedly, we need the rain, I just wonder why it all has to come down at once.

The wedding gig I did tonight was in Oyster Bay. The rain started falling in sheets right around two pm as we approached the village. I was thankful that we were in a truck, since some of the roads had started flooding and a couple of cars almost got stuck in these puddles.

Worse yet, we had to unload the truck in the rain. I was soaked when we were done. It was also very unpleasant setting everything up in wet clothes. I need to remember to bring an extra set of clothes tomorrow when I do my next two gigs.

I've seen a fair number of weddings now, and I couldn't help notice that three or four of the brides had noticable bulges indicating that a child was on the way. The bride at this wedding was clearly showing her advanced state of pregnancy, perhaps seven or eight months along. On occasions like this, I've wondered why they waited so long to get married. I mean, once they had discovered that a little one was on the way and made the decision to become husband and wife, what is the hold up?

I don't deny that there are certain logistics to be worked out. Catering halls to rent, DJ's to hire, guests to invite, and countless other things (which I have yet to experience) that must take place before the wedding. I have been told that planning for a wedding usually takes about three months. Not that the person who told me this is an expert, but since she had her wedding while four months pregnant, I have to take this into account.

Are there reasons why it can take so long? I can imagine if the couple have their heart set on one particular place, it might be a while before there was an opening at that catering hall. Still, I just can't come up with any other reason for why they might wait so long.

I don't know. I suspect that my inquiries on this matter would be met with less than welcome expressions. I also suspect that I probably would risk injury by asking.