Yesterday I mentioned my sister�s wedding. Weddings are always great sources for stories; getting loaded, hooking up, plans going awry�

I wish I had gotten loaded and hooked up.

But when it�s your little sister�s wedding, you just end up just doing a lot of heavy lifting. I was chauffer (I ended up driving the groom to the church). I was errand boy (I fetched ice and wine.) I was delivery boy (I transported buffet leftovers and gifts). I was photographer, photographee, and crisis management. I was tragically sober! As a member of the bride�s family, I was stuck at the church for pictures until the open (open!) bar was closed.

And what would a wedding be without a disaster? It was the first week of April in Erie, PA, so of course it was 40 degrees colder than the rest of Pennsylvania. It had been raining all day. Ice formed on just about every outdoor surface. About an hour before the ceremony, the power went out at the church. We scrambled and got out the candles from Christmas Eve candlelight service, and handed them out to the guests as they came in. I borrowed my brother�s watch and gave it to the pianist so that she could keep her time cues, since the wall clock had stopped. The minister was cutting things from the ceremony so that we might finish before it was completely dark.

But it was beautiful. The bridesmaids came down the aisle to a full church of small candles. And just as the pianist hit the first note of Here Comes The Bride, the lights came back on. Many thought it was planned until the minister, during the sermon, thanked the guy on the pole outside. He said he wished that he could compliment him on his impeccable timing.

What a drama queen my sister is, to make the bridesmaids walk down the aisle in the dark, just so she could be the prettiest one.

And then, after the reception, my own personal tragedy: the calamari salad leaked in my new car. Phew-eee!