Strange Wedding

The Preacher Dodges A Wave

Hanging out at the far end of the Plaza Hotel in Monterey a few minutes ago, I espied a few dozen white folding chairs on the small beach, mostly occupied, a few photographers milling about, and a stream of blue tulle stretched between a couple of multi-colored plastic wind wheels stuck in the kelp strewn sand. I got there just in time to see a hefty guy in a short sleeved blue shirt and white shades escorting a buxom bride in full white regalia down the sandy stairs. There was a young man in black shirt and tie right on the high tide mark, tiny waves lapping the shore inches from his feet, playing Pachelbel’s Canon on fuzz guitar, repeatedly missing notes. A guy in a Mohawk and shades looked on, while an attractive young woman nursed. The preacher, garbed in a casual, short-sleeved white un-tucked shirt read the vows while sidestepping a small rogue wave, evoking chuckles, as kayakers traversed the stairs a few feet away. Scuba divers inched into the cold water nearby. After all, it’s California.