Marriage of the Captain

It's been a month since Captain Chaz got married, but I'm only blogging about it now. It was worth the wait, though, because now this post can include photos. It's just not the same without photos. A picture is worth a thousand words, sure, but also the pictures help break up the text. Mustn't bore you, right?

This picture summarizes everything. Just look at their faces!

Some of our classmates asked me, "how was Charlie's wedding?" and obviously they wouldn't be satisfied with a simple "um, wedding-y". Frankly, that answer would not have sufficed for this wedding, which is more than can be said for most.

The answer I've been giving is this: You know how Charlie is pretty much always happy? Well this is the happiest I've ever seen him.

Witness, the above photograph. There are a few hundred more (no exaggeration) just like it.

As would any good blogger, I've got to give a quick shout-out to a fellow blogger. Charlotte was an absolute pleasure at her uncle's wedding, a charming young lady to the very core. Even though she tried to disassemble my boutonnière.


I was one of four ushers, and it was an honor to be part of the wedding. Of course, wearing the super-snazzy morning suit didn't hurt. Still, this was an intense gig, and we brought our A game to the church that morning.

Mark knows that preparation is the cornerstone of success, whether one is bike racing or ushing. So he prepared himself.


By stretching. Don't question it.

The ceremony was nice, with some wise words from the Reverend into which were interwoven some clever cycling references. Marriage, it seems, is like a paceline. Don't question that either.

The reception was where the most fun was to be had... which is probably not unusual. It would have been un-classy for us to dance in the church, for example, but the reception saw lots and lots of dancing.

Some of it was heart-warming and beautiful.
The sort of dancing you'd expect between a newly minted husband and wife. And then there's the surprising dancing. Like the hora.


They danced the hora. It wasn't nearly as long lasting nor as all-encompassing as what you'd see at a Jewish wedding, but it was there. Jay and I both saw it, although if either of us had seen it alone, he wouldn't have believed his own eyes. The hora, go figure.

As with everything, be it a conference or a bike race or bar-hopping, the awesomeness of the Captain's wedding was amplified exponentially by good friends.


...although Jay and I did get a little competitive on the dance floor. Elbows out, like.