“Ladies and Gentlemen, we’re sorry to inform you, but your plane from Cincinnati to New York La Guardia has been delayed multiple hours due to thunderstorm activity in the New York airport.”
Groans filled the terminal, and Christine and I slumped back into our chairs, trying to get comfortable for what seemed to be a long wait (and what turned out to be, in fact, a long wait). Was this Déjà vu? Didn’t this just happen in La Guardia on Friday night, flying into Cincinnati? Was that Santa Claus? I pondered to Christine, inconspicuously motioning her towards an older gentleman, complete with a full-on white beard and red shirt. No, she assured me, it certainly was not.
Then, another "great" comment: "Ladies and Gentlemen, we will be experiencing further delays due to the fact that we cannot locate your pilot." That's good, right?
Sitting in the surprisingly comfortable Delta terminal in Cincinnati’s airport, I thought back over the past few days – quite a blur, in all honesty. But, then again, the blurring sensation could just be the sleep deprivation. We were on a voyage throughout the southeastern Ohio landscape for the weekend; our main reason for traveling was to celebrate the marriage of our two great friends, Nate and Andrea, but we were more than happy to spend time with family along the way. Now, having spent all our energy and funds on a quite exceptional trip, we sat back and tried to relax, enjoying the last few hours before New York.
The trip started where it seemed like it took place entirely: in an airport terminal. Thunderstorms filled the New York area, and as expected, the plane leaving La Guardia was delayed. Christine and I were able to witness a scenario at the bag check counter that would really only occur in New York.
Foreign Guy From Country I’m Not Sure Of: “Uh, yes, I had a, uh, question about my airline ticket. I was supposed to depart at 6:30 PM, but my ticket that was just printed says that I am delayed and not leaving until 9:30 PM. There has been a mistake.”
Airline Employee: “Yes sir, we’re sorry, but all flights have been delayed due to the weather.”
FGFCINSO: “I don’t understand. I bought my plane ticket to leave at 6:30. Why can’t the plane take off?”
AE: “Sir, have you looked outside? It’s literally thunderstorming out. No planes can take off. There is nothing we can do.”
FG: “This is ridiculous and unacceptable.”
We left, so I couldn’t hear if there was anything else said. No word on whether or not that guy left on a plane on time or if he did, in fact, have to accept the delayed flight. I’d choose the latter. After wandering around the terminal for a couple hours and eating a food-coma-inducing dinner from Chili’s, we boarded our fairly empty plane and set off for the homeland. The flight itself was pretty standard: Christine read, I fell asleep, and nothing too exciting really happened. We arrived at CVG just past midnight, and were picked up by two smiling (but likely tired) parents, as Christine’s mom and dad so graciously picked us up and drove us back to Harrison, Ohio: our resting place for the next few days.
The event of the weekend was slated to take place in Columbus on Saturday afternoon. After multiple people asked me which part of Columbus it was in, I did some research, but am still not convinced I know, or really ever knew. Regardless of where it was, we used google maps and were able to make it to the service in record time, a full 45 minutes early. As you can see by these beautiful pictures, we were able to see Andrea and the Bride’s maids have their official pictures taken. What a group!
After the service, and all that, blah, blah, blah, you can see me, Tyler, Rick, and Fromm were ready to hit up this reception. We heard some great things about the reception site, and we were darn well ready to get ourselves down and dirty on the dance floor. Rumor also had it that the infamous City Barbecue would be catering, offering absolutely delicious pulled pork and good ol’ country cooking. Mmmmhmmm! So after the ceremony and send off and all that jazz, which some people call the important part, but I like to call the “pre-party,” we headed off towards the real fun: the reception.
Picture a barn in the middle of rural Ohio. Include goats, cornfields, hay, straw hats, and the whole shebang. Then picture a wedding party. Sound awesome? Yeah, I thought so, too, and I trusted Nate and Andrea, so I was ready and pretty excited for this party.
This party did not disappoint! All of our hopes and dreams came true (“all” meaning just one, the one that they were going to have City Barbecue), and we ate and drank to our fill. We even were able to have quite a good time with the wedding favors, which made us seem to be like old men. Even the girls got in the fun too, and I must say, looked quite the part. Check out the pictures and see for yourself.
I also overheard quite the conversation between two older country gentlemen, discussing the impending argument at hand: how could this supreme party be labeled?
Man 1: “Well I’ll be! This here’s a hoedown!”
Man 2: “You don’t say! I reckon it’s a hootenanny!”
Man 1: “Hoedown!”
Man 2: “Hootenanny!!”
(This continued for 13 minutes, where a full-out line dancing fued ensued, with Man 1 coming through victorious, officially naming the party a “Hoedown.”)
The wedding was a great time, and even better was that we saw many of the ol' gang from college. I'll list some, so they feel appreciated for gettinga shoutout: Andrea and Nate (obvi), Meg and Tyler, Fromm, Whitney and Rick, Jenny, and Brian, to name a few. It was a reminder to both of us how lucky we are to have had such a great group of friends in college. Thanks guys, YOU're the best.
We left the wedding and made our way back to Cincinnati for the night. Along the way, Christine's parents called us and wanted us to come out with them to a bar on the river. It was 1 in the morning, and Christine's *parents* wanted us to go to a bar. Was this backwards? We ended up heading down to the river and meeting up, closing down the bar. I haven't closed down a bar probably EVER, and all it took was one night with the Plagemans in Cinci to do so. Thanks for helping us check another life goal off our list.
We tried to sneak back into the Westerkamp house, hoping not to wake Christine's grandparents' with our late arrival. But when we walked in the door, Christine's grandmother and grandfather were waiting near the doorway in their robes, arms folded, worried sick about us being out so late. We were teenagers all over again, sneaking in late after a crazy night on the town. Sleep was necessary: tomorrow was another busy day.
The morning brought Sunday brunch. Delicious Graeter's rolls, salads, and fruit cups galore greeted us at the breakfast table. And even more importantly, more family came to join us! The Mayhaus family came over to spend some time with us, and Charlie even pried himself out of bed at the ungodly hour of 10 am to bless us with his warming presence. This breakfast really added to a great weekend, as spending time with both of our families normally does. Living in New York City without a car usually prohibits much time together with the family, so we've learned to really appreciate every chance we have. We hung out with the family for the majority of the day, snacking and chatting away.
The events bring us back to where we are now: an airport terminal, listening to an airline attendant explain more reasons why we're delayed as we look at fake Santa Claus and listen to approximately 17 babies scream their heads off, because it's waaaaay past their bedtime. Another Cincinnati visit is in the books, people, and another good time can be chalked up right next to it. Until Christmas, when we take the city by storm, this is Eric and Christine, live from New York...
