Casa Walsh

My Dad and I attended a wedding on the Vineyard this past weekend. We had a great time. See those flags on the beach, waaay back there? That’s where the ceremony should have taken place. But it rained. I feel bad for all the couples who planned to have outdoor weddings in New England this June as they all will be undoubtedly rained out. The ceremony was beautiful despite the indoor location.

Continuing with the unintentional theme for my blog, I learned and forgot 100 names this weekend. Because I only knew a handful of people, and because I was drinking heavily, the retention of names was very difficult. My Dad and I had a lot of conversations like this:

Dad: “What’s that woman’s name, do you remember?”

Me: “Uh, damn. Sneak a look at her place card.”

Dad: “I can’t read it from here. Let’s call her Marilyn.”

On Sunday, after brunch, as Dad and I were standing around debating which ferry to take I was approached my a dude whom I talked with late Friday night. I think he even made sure I made it back to the club, where I was staying, safely.

“Amanda, do you know my name?”

Apparently he didn’t have much faith in my recollection ability since he gave me half a pause before he said, “It’s Bronson” and walked away.

My Dad laughed.