What a weekend. Five days in the mountains for a great wedding. The site was in the northwest corner of Virginia, near Star Tannery, which is about 50 miles southeast of Winchester. It was great seeing all the Obama signs out in the country.
My in-laws own about 20 mountain acres up there, and my brother-in-law was getting married on Saturday, but the festivities began Thursday and went through Sunday.
The property doubles as a hunt camp, and I go almost every year. I'm usually the only liberal there, which makes for arguing that ranges from good-natured to downright hostile.
So, it was with no small sense of curiosity that I approached the wedding. I knew that the majority of people would be pretty conservative but that for the first time I'd have a decent group of like-minded allies, including my brother-in-law.
Imagine my surprise and disappointment when the first thing I'm told when I arrived was "Now, no talking politics of any kind. All weekend." This from my father-in-law, who is so conservative he makes Limbaugh seem blue.
Seriously? Three weeks out and Obama leading in the polls? OK. I can respect another person's property, and the idea of rules at a wedding.
We had 4+ kegs of homemade beer plus another 15-20 cases of storebought. Plus assorted liquor and other happy things. There was food everywhere, and about a hundred people at the peak of attendance.
There was a live band out of Vermont called Jatoba that was absolutely unbelievable. If you can get to see them, do so as quickly as possible. A great jam band.
At one point a couple of us commented that the whole thing was like a gypsy wedding, where it went on for days and people just partied constantly.
Except that it was hard to avoid politics. Lord knows I tried. But a man can only take so much. For the first day I ignored the comments. "He's a Muslim." "F*cking socialist." &c. &c. &c. In fact, it seemed like the restriction on politics only applied to the liberals, because every time one of "us" spoke up, we were reminded to keep a lid on it. When the conservatives griped amongst themselves, it went ignored.
So, after a day or so of putting up with it, I finally snapped. I had been out hunting, and I was tired, wanted a few beers, and a bite to eat. I'm listening to a guy talk about the myth of health care and how anyone can visit an emergency room. So, I give him some shit, correct his point, give him some more shit, and start to move on. As I'm changing I grab the first shirt I come across, which happens to be an Obama shirt.
As I'm walking over to the grill to cook some stuff, my father-in-law starts to give me some grief, telling me to lay off the politics. My wife [his daughter] steps in, asking why it is that only the liberals have to be quiet. She's pissed. He's pissed. My mother-in-law is pleading for peace all around. Other people are doing that backing-away-thing that people do when they want to innocently vacate a potentially nasty scene, but not get so far away that they can't hear what's going on. Me? I'm hungry, a bit tired, and still don't have a cup of the beautiful Belgian Tripel Ale I've been aging since March. [FYI, 14% alcohol, but smooth as silk. A real treat, but you can't have many.]
I say "fine, no problem, but the wingnuts have to lay off me." He says fine, and finishes with "By the way, get rid of that shirt. I know you're wearing it just to stir up trouble." That snaps it for my wife, who starts crying, yelling, and trying to get my shirt off me. I take the shirt off, reverse it, put it back on, and head off to find a beer. ["Maybe I'll have the porter instead," I'm thinking, "possibly the Irish Ale."]
Peace reigns for a few days.
So, what's the point here?
First, you can't have more than a couple of cups of 14% Belgian Tripel or your night will be very very short.
Second, don't mix politics with a wedding celebration. My f-i-l was right.
Third, I managed to gain a vote for Obama, by talking reasonably but calmly about policy specifics with one of my wife's cousins. Out of earshot.
Fourth, the cousin lives in Ohio and he votes. So take that, beotch wingnuts!