The Wedding

This weekend proves to be one of the most memorable on record. Ben and Whitney got married Saturday, and I am ecstatic that I got to be part of it.

Work on Thursday turned out to be frustrating. Coming home to Brad's delicious cooking -- Brad was Ben's best man -- at my apartment and my closest buddies hanging out was a great cure for work-related blues. I can't imagine where Brad learned to cook, but his almond-crusted halibut was so delicious that we had to kill some time drinking wine and Martinelli's before we left for Jazz Alley having finished so quickly. Good food can turn hungry men into vacuum cleaners.

Ben didn't know we were going to Jazz Alley, which was good because it turned out he really wanted to go there. In fact, as we drive by it in Downtown Seattle on our way to find parking, he made a remark about it. According to Brad, he said "Oh there's Jazz Alley! I should remember where that is." He hadn't quite put it together. Nor did he put it together when we went by the second time, nor when we pulled into the Jazz Alley parking garage. "Hey, this is the Jazz Alley parking garage!" "Yeah," Brad said, "I hope they let us park here." As we were walking under the awning to the entrance of Jazz Alley, only then did Ben finally exclaim, "We're going to Jazz Alley!?" He was excited. :-D

The music was great. Jazz musicians know how to have a good time with an intimate, live audience, and a table full of bachelors -- Kevin, Alex, Matt, Brad, Peter (Brad's brother), Tyler (Whitney's brother), Danny (Ben's brother), Ben, and me -- sure makes for good times. The man playing upright bass was one of the most talented musicians I've ever heard. I think he managed a three-part harmony on the thing. Astounding!

After Jazz Alley, we got some dessert at a restaurant down the street, but not before our caravan got separated and my car got lost (thanks to following Whitney's brother). ;-) Good times were had by all, and then dishes were done when we got home. (And the next morning, too.)

Friday we all got up to go pick up our tuxes. I think I look pretty good in black tie; even better when I lose some weight. I highly approve of cranberry as a choice of color for the wedding party. After trying on our tuxes, Alex, Matt, Kevin and I had no responsibilities until 4:30 when the rehearsal would be, so we decided to go explore downtown. Once we swung by my apartment (and finally got off the computers), we headed down to Pike's Place. It was the usual atmosphere of street musicians and fish-stand workers pulling pranks on paying customers. And of course, the world's very first Starbucks was there. We decided to walk from Pike's Place to Seattle Center, but by the time we got there we had to turn right around and head back to Pike's Place because it was getting late, so we decided to take the monorail to Westlake. We ended up 20 minutes late for the rehearsal anyway, in part, no doubt, to the usual Friday evening rush hour traffic that grips Seattle in the same way it does SoCal. Ben was just about as late, though, so we were fine. :-)

After the rehearsal we went out to a special dinner for close family and friends, complete with delicious food, speeches, a photo slideshow, and of course some flirting with the bridesmaids. Apparently Ben has a history of nearly killing the people who go hiking with him. Whitney, Brad said in his toast, is in for an adventure. The night culminated in some Halo 3 versus, the groomsmen receiving beautiful pocket watches as a gift from Ben, picking up Tessa from SeaTac and trying to figure out how we were going to make coffee without a French press or coffee maker, after which I stayed up way too late catching up and finally got to bed around 2am. My apartment is very very noisy at night, but really only when people are sleeping.

The morning of the big day we all got up right around 6:30. I made pancakes for everyone, and Brad made coffee in a saucepan (which we then strained through a filter into cups -- ingenious!) and also some bacon. Truly a successful and memorable breakfast. Thankfully, that wasn't the end of the success and memory that day! We managed to get ourselves to Clise Mansion by about 8:30 to help put up decorations. Soon after, the groomsmen had a party while we all changed into our formal wear. That's when the singing started, and it really didn't stop until people started showing up for the wedding. (A healthy round of "We Will Rock You" ought to be the end of any good bachelorhood, am I right?)

Once we'd changed, we let Ben and Whitney alone with the photographer to have that ever-important "first glimpse" of the bride and photos thereof. Once that was done, the men went outside to have our pictures taken together. We had no problems smiling and joking and generally taking a healthy mix of funny and serious photographs. The girls, on the other hand, seemed to be having trouble really getting their happy faces on, so we covertly organized a synchronized wolf-whistle that managed to get them laughing. Mission accomplished. Then after the family went out to have their pictures, the groomsmen partied inside with more singing and some small bit of dancing to keep the mood lively until 11:30 arrived.

Once people started arriving we got our game-faces on and got down to our duty of escorting friends and family to be seated. We had to deal with the (somewhat good) problem that more people showed up than we had room for. In some cases we pulled younger folks out of their seats to let an older couple sit; after all, we wouldn't want any deaths on our hands. The chairs and walls were filled with people. Then finally the time came for us to file out. We all got caught up in the last minute stresses -- Should we go now? Don't let the latecomers see the bride! Where's the flower girl? -- and it almost got to me. Then I started walking and realized that now was the time to smile and get happy, because the most special thing was about to happen. The bridesmaids and groomsmen lined the front, and the ring bearer and flower girl pulled off a flawless victory. (Ben followed shortly.)

Then the moment of truth and joy -- the beautiful bride emerged at her father's arm, radiant and obscured by the standing crowd. Her father, who dwarfed Ben somewhat awkwardly, released his daughter to him and I think that may have been when it really hit Ben. I couldn't see his face throughout the ceremony, but I know that I couldn't help smiling from ear to ear when I looked at Whitney so I can only imagine how Ben must have felt. The pastor gave a little sermon about love, most of which I can't remember because I was filled with giddiness of a kind I thought only women were supposed to experience. It was such a joyful experience. The pastor made one tongue-slip that was just perfect for keeping the mood light, and after a few minutes he made the pronouncement. How proud must all of those parents have been to see the time and love they had all invested pay off in that singular moment. (Invested in both Ben and Whitney individually, of course, but also invested in trying to get them together for years -- those parents and their machinations.) After that, we whooshed out after the newlyweds to receive and greet the guests.

The bridesmaids looked gorgeous (and, I think they would say, most certainly better have after the effort they made to look so) but their feet did not feel so hot I think after standing in cute shoes for a few hours. We all endured a bit of sore feet for the sake of greeting family and friends, but it also gave us a chance to talk amongst ourselves. The wedding party is proof that Ben and Whitney know how to make good friends. (But also miss some bad apples, given my own presence.) ;-)

After the reception there was delicious food with enough carbs to fuel us up for dancing, and the most excellent best man's speech I've ever heard care of Brad. The man has a handle on public speaking, and even if he didn't know what he'd said after he was done all he needs to know is that it was inspiring. Ben and Whitney cut the cake and we all went to dance.

Ben was glowing as he danced with his new wife. I've never seen the man happier or more content. After the first dances (newlyweds, father-daughter, mother-son), I made the bold (for me) move of asking one of the bridesmaids to dance. It's nice dancing with someone who has less confidence in their own dancing than you do in yours, because then you look like an expert and can be encouraging and laugh when you misstep. I hope it was as fun for her as it was for me. At some point shortly after the first slow dance, people started disappearing because they served cake. (I guess I didn't hear that announcement.) It seemed like Ben and Whitney were more interested in dancing, so about four of us stuck around with them right up until "Dancing Queen" came on and Ben called it quits.

As we exited, I got pulled aside to go help decorate Ben and Whitney's car for their grand departure. (That was much better than cake, if you ask me.) We covered the thing in bows and ribbons and balloons and lipstick, and strung up cans to drag behind it. Absolutely grand! I have no idea if they tried to drive out of Marymoor like that, but I surely hope they didn't.

With the car bedecked, we returned to the reception room for the bouquet and garter toss. They decided to go with the sketchy pull-the-garter-off-her-leg method, but at least he didn't use his teeth. The choice of music, though, was somewhat sketchy. Last weekend when they were choosing, I was all for Indiana Jones as a theme, but yesterday with Ben reaching up underneath Whitney's dress I couldn't help but rethink my support. Was I seeing "Raiders of the Lost Ark" or "Temple of Doom"? (God forbid it be "The Last Crusade!") All the same, Whitney's little brother caught the garter (and I nearly tripped over him in a lunge), which spells doom for the hopes of any of us bachelors getting married this decade.

Then the dancing resumed and we all had a ball. At various points I started a conga line with Matt Jeffryes, ended up doing some kind of spontaneous dance routine with three other groomsmen as everyone looked on, and popped a button clear off my vest, which nearly hit Matt in its flight. We put some energy into it.

Finally the time came for us to wrap up the music and send off the new husband and wife with bubbles and cheers. They were obviously eager since I think they were first out the door and didn't wait long enough for people to get outside to blow bubbles on them, though its possible this was a strategic dress-saving measure.

With Ben and Whitney sent off, we got ourselves changed and helped un-decorate the mansion a bit, and then I and the folks from Claremont all shoved off to go see Quantum of Solace. The movie was somewhat disappointing, but I think Alex was most disappointed that the ticket taker lied to us when he told us they would show the new Star Trek trailer before it. After the movie, Renee took Alex down to the airport and the rest of us went to Red Robin for dinner. It was nice to see Peter and Kathryn again; everyone was surprised they came all the way from Chicago. After dinner, we all headed to my place to spend some time together. Jessica was kind enough to drive Peter and Kathryn for us (and later on to Kirkland where his brother and sister-in-law live), and Josiah had to leave, unfortunately, but I was happy to see him again, too.

Over at my place we all chatted and had tea (which, incidentally, came from Christine and Todd's wedding) or cocoa. Jessica took Peter and Kathryn home for the evening, and Tessa, Matt, Josh, Kevin and I all decided to watch "Enchanted," just in case any of us hadn't been fully steeped in romantic giddiness for the day. I love that movie. Though later, trying to fall asleep, I found that I was reminded by most every thought of how single I am now. Guys like me get lonely. We get over it, though.

This morning we woke up early to get Kevin out to the airport. On our way back, we looked for a place to have breakfast and finally walked through Redmond to find a place. We settled on Panera bread, which was probably the most expensive place for the smallest portions we might have found, but it was sufficient. After our walking tour of downtown Redmond, I took everyone to see Microsoft Campus, and while the Visitor's Center is apparently closed on Sundays, we did manage to find a working Surface to play with. We went back to the apartment for Matt and Tessa to pack things up, relaxed and played some portal, then headed out to the airport again, after which Josh and I came back and played frisbee at Marymoor and watched people fly RC airplanes. (They were hovering in place -- amazing!) Pizza, a movie (the Fifth Element), and video games rounded out the night, and soon I will sleep.

Tomorrow, things go back to normal and this long weekend becomes another memory. It will be one of my fondest, though. I am as glad to have been a part of it as I am honored to be Ben's good friend. And of course I am so glad for all of my friends; I care for each of you. Our time together has been unforgettable. But hey everybody, come back and visit soon!

Computers making our lives better

My experience ordering airline tickets online tonight was just awful.

So I open up Travelocity to see about air fares. Usually they have pretty good deals, better than most airlines' sites I suppose. Maybe I've just seen too many of their ads. Anyway, I find a suitable flight to San Diego and go through the booking process, enter my billing information, select all the options, go right up to the "book the flight" step and get dumped back onto the flight selection page. That flight is full, it claims.

A little confused that it continues to show the flight on the flight selection page, I go through the whole process again (and for the fourth time, damn it, I don't want to book a hotel room!) only to end up with the same result. At this point, I decide to try the airline's website, but get scared off by the extra $25 it would take to book it there.

So I try Travelocity one more time as I call their telephone reservation number. This is apparently one of those technology companies that has outsourced its call center to India, so I'm met with an accent that is impossible to interpret for the first few confused seconds of the call. (Apparently he couldn't understand me, either.) So he asks me for all the same information, almost like he's just punching it into the same website I've tried to use only this fare is the $25 more fare. I figure it's not worth struggling to get the price I want at this point, so I just say go for it. We get all the information recorded in, billing info, no I don't want a hotel, yes I know we can't select the seat on JetBlue...and it doesn't let him book it either.

So I'm on hold while the guy in another country tries to fix me up with whatever secondary system they use when JetBlue decides it hates Travelocity (what are you doing, booting a mainframe man? C'mon!) and I start going through JetBlue's website itself. I figure maybe I can make a little more headway than he can going direct, and since the fare's now the same, it can't hurt, right?

Well, he continues to hem and haw getting information put back into system #2 and keeps asking me to wait and hold on; meanwhile I'm selecting what seats I want on the flight. (The hell? $20 for four extra inches of leg room? I'll squeeze, thanks.) So at this point I tell him I'm just going to book through JetBlue, sorry to bother him, thanks for nothing (okay, I was nicer than that), and continue on to enter my billing info into JetBlue.

Well. JetBlue believes in my internet security. Therefore, they use the new Verified by Visa system that routes all the special information (like card security codes) only through the bank and hides it behind a password, which is all a vendor's website will see. While I may doubt the security of this setup, I'm sure that it would, in a perfect world, work. This is, unfortunately, an imperfect world.

So back when the system was introduced I must have registered for it. This may possibly explain why when I tried to recover my password using my current address and card expiration date, it denied me access. Of course, one can never be sure of these things, so I attempted to activate Verified by Visa again, to no avail. Frustrated and forty-five minutes into the airline-ticket-buying experience already, I decided to call Wells Fargo, from whom I get my Visa card.

My flabbergasted explanation of my ticket-shopping woes was enough to get me sent straight to a manager, whose customer interaction voice was somewhat comforting if mildly annoying. She asks me for all the standard credit-card verification stuff and we play "guess a number" with my zip code until I realize the system hasn't updated since my move and I did at some point receive bills at college. Once that was cleared up we got down to why Verified by Visa couldn't verify my identity even given all the correct information.

Of course, it was probably all my fault. You see, when I received my latest credit and ATM cards from Wells Fargo, they came with another new Visa product: "Paywave." They embed a little RFID chip in your card that, presumably, has all the same information as the little magnetic strip on the back. The only difference is that the RFID chip can be read at a distance and, in my mind, without your knowledge. I didn't really want people scanning my credit card through my pockets, so I called when I received the cards and asked them kindly to send me replacements. The credit card never came for some reason, but that didn't stop the ordered (but not shipped) cards from messing up the system.

So my expiration date didn't match up with the Verified by Visa system's expectations. They should be sending me a new card rush-delivery, which I hope will actually get shipped -- third time's a charm? I digress. The point is, the nice manager on the other line had access to some sort of e-switch that allowed my transaction to go through on JetBlue without entering a password. (Imagine if power like this fell into the wrong hands!)

After an hour-long battle with the intertubes and people in places I've probably never heard of, I now have a (relatively) cheap round-trip ticket on JetBlue, a headache, and a non-working credit card. At least it was less stressful than my weekend.

Pictures!

I thought I'd share some pictures from my last two Graphics projects. The first is from the image processing project; the second is from the raytracer. The first image is derived from an image I picked up off the internet somewhere -- it's a high-speed photo of water hitting a glass. The second image was made completely by me from the spaceship to the texture. Hope you like!

Astronomy is always nodding at Genesis

God (to Adam): "For dust you are and to dust you shall return."

Scientists: "True dat."

Free time is important

Word!




Harvey Mudd continues to kill with Tremendous Workload and its close compatriot Lack of Sleep. Much fun, though.

The terrorists won (again)

My most recent experience with airport security at Ontario has made me aware of a new and surprising phenomenon that I call "shampoo paranoia." Because of the latest thwarted terrorist attempt wherein extremists used either gels, liquids, aerosols, or possibly all three in plans for an explosive airplane-destroying cocktail, our right to carry toothpaste in whatever the hell bag we choose has been summarily revoked. Now, I'm not saying that this is in itself necessarily bad. However...

I went through airport security at Ontario and went through the motions -- shoes off, laptop in the bin, metal pocket items in the bin, the whole nine yards. I knew I had some contraband, but I figured they wouldn't notice and I'd be able to maintain my normal hygiene routine that night without checking a bag. Little did I know that I was wearing my terrorist pants. The new shorts that I bought (and got a great deal on, I might add) have the unusual side effect of looking to a metal detector like what nuclear explosion looks to a heat-seeking missile. So, after three tries through the metal detector (three strikes, you're out?) I was herded into this scary little box made of windows. It honestly made me feel more claustrophobic than anything else, a prisoner awaiting sentencing for my pants-related misdoings. The worst part about it, though, is that my first thought upon entering the little cage was, "Oh God, they're going to find my toothpaste." Is it so bad that I like Arm & Hammer and that it doesn't come in travel size? So anyway, I'm taken out of the little box and marched over to the table where my personal items are rifled-through a little and I am wanded approximately five times. Every single rivet in my cargo shorts set the wand off. I tried to smile at the TSA guy to reassure him that I was not carrying seven pistols and extra magazines. What a horror!

So, they find my toothpaste (0.7 ounces over the maximum -- if that doesn't make them suspicious, what does?) and my shampoo, which actually was within the size constraint but, sadly, not in a plastic bag. (Only too late did I think to ask the guard to pretend that it was in a plastic bag but that I took it out and threw it away or some other related story. Either this plastic bag business is a silly rule or Ziploc has perfected an explosive-neutralizing design.) Off they go, I hope, to someone who needs it (possibly arriving passengers, but most likely the trash). Dejected, defeated, I redo my belt and stuff all of my life back into my carry-on and go on my way, another victim of overbearing security.

That's when I realize that I'm actually quite fortunate. You see, while the TSA guy was making such a ruckus about my shampoo bottle and its lack of Ziploc, he completely overlooked the items it sat on top of: a pair of tweezers, nail clippers with one of those folding stabby instruments, and a 4-inch long screwdriver. Before the era of shampoo paranoia, these items would have been found and I would have been taken to another room and summarily sentenced to full body cavity search. But apparently nail-clippers aren't dangerous anymore.

There is a real message here and no, it's not "airport security is incompetent," even thought that's true. The real problem with security is that we must post our sentries on the wall, be ever vigilant, and even subject our own to suspicion and search; the enemy has only to wait for the opportune moment of weakened defense, find the soft spot in the wall, and slip quietly past our guards and searchlights. We have a tough defense, and it has had its successes, but no defense can work forever. We have to find another way.

A good weekend

Most people, when they say "good" as in "X is soooo good!", mean that it tastes good or that they like it or it sits well with them. The word "good" has come to mean "agreeable." But I like to think "good" has a deeper meaning, as in when we discuss God's goodness. There is a real kind of good, just like there is a real kind of love.

This weekend was a good weekend -- real good.

Saturday, I went along with the Microsoft interns to hike Paradise for a few hours on Mt. Rainier. A more surreal landscape I have never seen. The place was fire and ice. One moment you would be tromping a path through green grass and meadowland, edged in by trees and rocks, and the next you would be slogging in spring snow. We took a shortcut across Skyline trail by sliding down a glacier ("glissading") on plastic bags. (What a ride that was!) And there is true beauty up there; at the apex of the trail, I looked to the north and saw Mt. Rainier's summit towering overhead, capped in a halo of lenticular clouds; I looked to the south and saw great toothy peaks slowly descending toward Oregon, Mt. Hood towering above them in the distance, and to its West Mt. Saint Helen's, a grim reminder of the awesome power that God has locked up inside these mighty vaulted domes.

That short hike left me thirsting for adventure. Cue Sunday.

I decided for the first time that I'd go to church. So, I looked on the Foursquare website and found a nearby place called Lake Sammamish Foursquare ("Lake Samm"). The sermon focus was on Psalm 84:5-7:

5 Blessed are those whose strength is in you,
who have set their hearts on pilgrimage.
6 As they pass through the Valley of Baca,
they make it a place of springs;
the autumn rains also cover it with pools.
7 They go from strength to strength,
till each appears before God in Zion.

According to the speaker, there are three characteristics of pilgrimage -- feasting, expecting God, and adventure. That third one struck me as most applicable to the here and now, for me. He said one thing that really stuck out to me: "When you hear a voice calling you to adventure, you know it's God if your first thought is 'that's impossible!'" And how true it is! The truly awesome power of God is that, by enriching the person with his power and wisdom and by guiding them with his Word, he can make anybody able to do anything he asks -- even the impossible. We worship the God of impossibilities: the God who made Israel's greatest hero out of a murderer with a speech impediment; the God who tamed hungry lions for the night that Daniel spent with them; the God who likewise extinguished every scorching flame that licked at Daniel's three friends that refused to worship Nebuchadnezzar's idol, preserving their life; the God who made a virgin to give birth; the God who raised His Son from death and once for all conquered it, causing death itself to die. And this God calls us to adventure.

So, after the service, I started my day's adventure by meeting people. The first was a new hire at Microsoft -- it was his first Sunday there, too. Then, the three guys who sit outside the service as "greeters." Then, Sandy, who is going on 28 and spent most of her 20's in the army as a spy (so she says). Then I lost track. So, having nothing on my agenda for the evening, I decided to meet up in Crossroads park with the "Focus" group, which is the name for the 18-28 year olds who meet in the park to barbeque, pray, and worship. And I made friends, socialized, and threw around a frisbee. Even better, Troy, the church's worship leader, led us in worship with his guitar (Dave, I think?, was on the drum) out on the grass. Worshipping outside like that fills you with feelings of freedom, and reminds you how many people are actually open to listening to a group of people praise the Lord. No one told us to take it back to church; it seemed to brighten up the few people around us.

I digress.

The session at the park ended with a devotion and prayer time, and it was the kind of fellowship that I've really been needing lately. As people gathered up to go, Sandy and Kate (Cait? There are eleven spellings at least, and I don't recall which is right) were talking about going swing dancing. Not knowing enough about swing dancing to really talk about it, I asked Sandy "what would you do if I did this..." and held out my hand like you do in Lindy. She recognized it, and instantly I had to come swing dancing. Having been adventurous all day, of course I accepted!

And that was refreshing and novel, too. I'd never gone to a real Swing club, and found it was just like swing-dancing at school. By the end of the night, I'd remembered enough of how to dance the Lindy Hop that I could close my eyes and (roughly) lead my partner. I'd forgotten how much fun it is!

About 12:30, the last dance was over, and I and my new friends went to a burger joint to get ice cream (think In-N-Out, only sketchy), where a drunk and homeless native american man asked us to pray for him. It was awkward, and we did, and we suspected it was a front for begging, but I trust that God will hear that prayer for old Lakota who's scared of dying out on the streets tonight. You could pray for the man, too, if you felt the calling to.

I think that many people might consider such a Sunday mundane or ordinary. But this Sunday, and this weekend, brought me closer to God, through awe of His majesty and fellowship with Him and His people. I needed this, and it was good.