This is the price you pay, people. You want my
opinionated rants thoughtful commentary on religion and politics and sex; you have to put up with my vacation snapshots. Hopefully some of you will emerge from the horror unscarred.
This is me and Ingrid in front of the Berwyn Spindle. Berwyn is a suburb of Chicago, on the way from Chicago (where my dad and brother live) to Galesburg (where my cousin’s wedding was). Or rather, it’s on the way if you take the scenic route and make a point of going through Berwyn. The Spindle — eight junked cars skewerd on a steel pole — is an ultra-spiffy art installation in a strip mall parking lot. There’s some controversy about it — some local merchants want to take it down — so we made a detour to see it while it’s still around. (Find out more at savethespindle.com.)
Arty closeup on the Spindle.
The barn where my cousin’s wedding was held, taken the day before the wedding. (And no, she wasn’t brought up in a barn; it’s just a neat space that rents out for weddings and stuff.)
Mother cat and kittens, at the barn. But you’ve seen this before. I think Ingrid took more pictures of the kittens than she did of anyone else at the wedding.
Me, Ingrid, and Lincoln’s chair, the morning of the wedding. Knox College in Galesburg — where several members of my family have taught, worked, attended, or otherwise been connected with — was one of the sites of the Lincoln-Douglas debates (a fact that, as Garrison Keillor noted, the people of Galesburg will never let you forget). This is a chair that Lincoln sat in, and has now become a neat, if somewhat cheesy, photo-op prop.
Me on the wedding day, being interviewed by my brother Rick about a fictional preacher, ranting about how a code written into the molecular structure of DNA proves that there is no God. Rick is making a series of short films as part of this ongoing video project, and we did a bunch of shooting on this trip. Mostly I just held the camera, but I did a couple of impromptu rants in front of it as well. If you click to enlarge, you’ll see that the microphone is actually a wooden chocolate dipper.
Me videotaping my brother, on this same project.
Again. Ingrid really loves these photos of me in the Regency-style dress holding the video camera.
And again. Shooting this film with my brother was some of the most fun we had on this trip, and Ingrid took a zillion pictures of it. BTW, the location is an abandoned religious school in Knoxville.
Me and Ingrid, at the abandoned school. It’s a very photogenic location (can a location be photogenic?), and after we were done with the video shoot we took a bunch of photos there.
And finally we’re at the actual wedding itself. These are my cousin Dennis’s kids, Isabel and Emma, who were flower girls. They looked amazing, but it turns out to be very hard to photograph children, as they don’t hold still. I only got a couple of good shots of them; this is one.
My cousin Dennis, who played bagpipes for the wedding recessional. Here he is looking like a member of the Scottish Secret Service.
Rick videotaping me photographing him. Is there no end to the madness?
The bride — my cousin Caitlin — with the flower girls.
And again. I love this photo. It really captures the essence of this wedding: an odd and special blend of urban and bucolic. Especially with the flower girls in black.
Rick at the reception. Handsome devil, isn’t he?
The bride, dancing with the flower girls.
And finally, me and Ingrid at the reception. We have to remember this “candles under the chins” trick for nighttime photography. Much more flattering than a flash.
Thank you for your patience. We now return you to our regularly scheduled ranting.