Joel married.
He is the first born of the North-by-Northwest clan of DuPont Saxmans and also the first to wed. At university and during his years meant for chasing a political science major, his heart had seemingly found a new beat to march to and her name was Denice.
We must back up just a wee bit.
A year prior and upon his invitation, at the beginning summer of my junior year in high school, I had purchased a $20 Grayhound ticket to visit this older brother in the green (rainy) college town just south of the Canadian border, Bellingham, Washington. His intention was to show me the ‘college life’ and I was unabashedly smitten with younger-brotherly respect for this visit. In a typical rented college-town house that he shared with maybe three roommates, he had one of the “cool upstairs bedrooms.” A gigantic American flag adorned on one of the walls.
He showed me his new town. We strolled through the Western Washington University campus and showed me what a “real lecture hall” should look like. We dined at a downtown Mexican restaurant (where his whispered insight pointed out that they “…should have larger water glasses if they are going to serve such spicy food.”) We chatted about family things and we chatted about brotherly things but I could tell that he had matured substantially since moving away from that old French explosives plant in the South of Tacoma, Les DuPont.
During that trip, my brother was the most independent person I knew. Joel had exchanged his subwoofer-ed Dodge Aires for a blue manual Ford Tempo, I believe. I met some of his friends, Pat, Ally, and Nate. They seemed, in a, “roast-your-big-brother-kind-of-way,” like the coolest people I had ever met. During dinner he inclined to be warry of what it means to use a credit card and to always tip the wait staff. Joel is my brother from the same mother. Goes without mentioning, you’d assume, but this was a proper brotherly move on his part. He also told me that he had met a girl and that he liked her and had bought her a ring. Joel wanted to marry her. Nope, that’s not it. Joel WAS GOING TO MARRY HER. The way he talked about how her… he was enamored. He was nervous but nervously confident. I felt impressed to witness this fervor.
One year later, en route to the wedding weekend, myself and Jordan caught a ride with Ben in his 2-door Acura Legend (burgundy mid 90’s coupe with a Thule roof mount.) It’s about a three-hour drive to Bellingham from Tacoma but we caught some rush-hour traffic. Let’s just say we listened to his Collective Soul CD more than once. I remember that Grandpa made the trip. Might’ve been his last visit to the west coast.
A sunny weekend save for the rain’s cameo appearance during all things reception. The rain be damned. It was a beautiful wedding. Can’t live in the Pacific Northwest and then complain about the weather. It’s abhorrent to your health. The complaining, that is.
I was cool until they played that damned video showcasing the progressing pictures of Joel and Denice from young-till-now, bleached hair to norm, proposing on a hike whilst some heartfelt ballad serenades us all as if that particular artist was only thinking of these two when they wrote it. That’s when I always get teary-eyed. Those videos ALWAYS get to me. Watching the summation of two humans…finding that they would rather try it together than alone. Just a story with a great ending that sneaks up on you. Can’t do that. I cannot handle that much story crammed into what, 3 minutes? That video needs to be like 80 years long.
