wedding weekend

I went to a wedding this Sunday. A few hours' drive to the North Shore, I made a day trip of it with a friend. We connected with the six others at our table, who shared their stories of how they knew the couple and each other and of the traveling they've done together and separately. I talked about my temporary retirement, and someone encouraged me to get out of the house while I could.

I read a comment somewhere recently about how COVID had ruined spontaneity. I think the argument was that the discomfort that's come with relearning to knock on doors acts as a barrier to impromptu interaction. I thought about that on Saturday afternoon when I found myself knocking, otherwise unannounced, at a neighbor's door to return a DVD and food container. They needed a hurried moment to prepare for company, which I measured as a pre-COVID possibility amplified by a routinization of solitude.

The crime was mine. I didn't text ahead so justice was theirs to be had, and the universe took no time settling the debt. No sooner had I arrived home than I undressed and planted on the couch, and no sooner was I comfortable than came a knock at the door. In the shadows through the light filtering curtains between he and I my visitor could watch a sasquatch fumbling to don pants from the floor to secure the hell hounds announcing his arrival.

How would Thoreau have fared if, sitting naked in his house staring into the abyss, an exterminator came knocking to offer his services? Would he have fallen off one of his three chairs in a chuckling panic? The premise seems superficially similar, to live in kooky solitude for a year or two, yet the outcome seems to have diverged chaotically. At least I opted for a thin sheet of fabric in the windows.

I wondered if I had planned enough for the wedding. I could have spent more time, rented a room, or hired a car. I didn't even settle on an outfit until the night before, light cream khaki with a white top. The only foresight I seem to have had was to pray to the gods of faux pas all weekend. My offerings clearly well received, I was blessed with good company in witness of a beautiful wedding of a dear friend. So I think ultimately the extemporaneousness afforded a reprieve from dubiousness in its beckoning to be present in uncertain times and slow to find something to write about as the moment passes.