{"id":4057,"date":"2017-10-05T10:51:03","date_gmt":"2017-10-05T08:51:03","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/?p=4057"},"modified":"2022-12-26T12:14:18","modified_gmt":"2022-12-26T11:14:18","slug":"23-hours-and-a-marker","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/?p=4057","title":{"rendered":"23 Hours and a Marker"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"<\/a>

Summa Familia<\/p><\/div>\n

It\u2019s Wednesday at 5:40 a.m. I am being wrenched from the warm embraces of my bed and Comfort Zone. I’m attending a wedding and I have to fly over the Atlantic Ocean. I have to fly over it again in five days.<\/p>\n

It’s my brother, one of six people on Earth for whom I would suffer two transatlantic flights in five days. Plus, in order to avoid four decades of guilt, I suck it up and go. To paraphrase and reinterpret Stein, a wedding is a wedding is a wedding.<\/p>\n

Though a wedding is very positive, I am daunted by what is sure to be four majorly hectic days. I have three full days in the U.S, one of which is filled with familial nuptials. Two days lead up to those nuptials. My entire family is going to be present. Crying happy Galeones holding, well, not hands, but drinks\u2026and probably pot stickers.<\/p>\n

Aka: it\u2019s going to be intense.<\/p>\n

This is especially true because it is my brother\u2019s wedding. My brother is the most intense of my siblings. Sort of an energetic mix of Teddy Ruxpin, Michael Corleone, and Seth Rogan. He takes things very seriously and he is very demanding of those in his life. In return, he is one of the most loyal people I know and if these roles were reversed, he’d be on the flight with a smile, joyfully coercing extra bottles of vodka from the attendant and belly laughing at Ladybugs<\/em> through a throatful of gravel.<\/p>\n

But it’s going to be intense, and it will begin immediately. My dad will pick me up from the airport and we’ll go directly to the rehearsal dinner. It starts with a ninety minute drive. This particular Comfort Zone breach is no joke.<\/p>\n

My mantra: weddings are fun.<\/em><\/p>\n

My dad and I hug in the arrivals lounge, in which nobody actually lounges. He says, \u201cListen, you need to try on your tux tomorrow morning.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause if it\u2019s too big or something you have to get it back to them asap so it\u2019s ready for the wedding.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI understand.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you know we have to tie our bowties?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI do. Chris told me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you know how to tie a bowtie?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI watched a YouTube video.\u201d (Stress on Tube: youTUBE)<\/p>\n

For the first twelve minutes of our trip the conversation centers on how confusing the roads from Newark Airport to the New Jersey Turnpike are. The following sixteen minutes are a mix of how bad Jersey drivers are, Bill Bryson’s insights, and a begrudging admittance that the Jersey turnpike is far superior to the P.A. turnpike. My dad mentions the importance of trying on the tux two or three more times and then we discuss the menu at the rehearsal dinner and the wedding. We then spend twelve minutes discussing our plan to visit a bookstore the following day and then have lunch; six of those minutes are allocated to what time we should leave and the other six to what restaurant we should eat at afterwards. Ninety-one minutes and thirty eight short seconds after leaving Newark Airport we pull into the strip mall for the dinner, cutting off his list of the recently dead at the P’s.<\/p>\n

Just when I think I might succumb to exhaustion, I see a sign that saves me. In this case that sign is Harry\u2019s Taproom<\/em>. We go in. A Stone IPA and a Maker\u2019s Mark later, I am ready for the rehearsal dinner.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s a lot of loud people in a small space. It\u2019s BYOB and nobody has disappointed. There\u2019s beer, champagne, and wine, and I am making sure the offerings from Harry\u2019s Taproom<\/em> don\u2019t get lonely in my system. I am meeting people, yawning, slowing down. I\u2019m having a nice time, but careening towards a ten second count on the canvas. I only have eyes for my bed. It\u2019s 9 p.m. I have been awake for 21.2 hours.<\/p>\n

My brother comes from another table; he\u2019s carrying two beers. I sense that one of them is for me, and while, under normal circumstances this would thrill me, I am now uneasy. He hands me a beer. I talk about anything to avoid what he\u2019s going to say. My mother saves me in the end, telling him she needs him to bring something in from the car. I breathe a sigh of relief, my mantra has become: bed and comfort zone in little more than an hour<\/em>. I fall in love with the vision of me in pajamas reading in bed and then drifting off on my side. I almost weep. I want to marry this vision.<\/p>\n

My dad gives me the \u201cYou almost ready to go?\u201d cue, which translates to \u201cI am very very ready to go.\u201d I see a light at the end of the jetlagged tunnel.<\/p>\n

Before my brother runs the errand for my mother, he sets his bear trap: \u201cI need to ask you big favor.\u201d<\/p>\n

A subconscious Marge Simpson growl purrs in the back of my throat. Big favor = duty. Duty = me not being able to sleep. Me not being able to sleep = actual tears in the bathroom.<\/p>\n

I avoid him as long as I can, but he corners me behind a box of White Zinfandel while I\u2019m munching on the carcass of a Caesar salad.<\/p>\n

\u201cHaving a good time?\u201d he asks.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I am.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI really appreciate you coming, man.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy pleasure.\u201d I keep eating the Caesar, mostly the croutons, in the hopes that if I keep my mouth full, he won\u2019t be able to ask his inevitable question. I, let\u2019s say, miscalculate.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou must be exhausted.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, I\u2019m pretty wasted. I\u2019ll be asleep soon, it\u2019s OK.\u201d I have laid my cards on the table. And now I\u2019m waiting for what\u2019s going to happen.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you remember when I visited you in Prague\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n

Aw feck.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2026we had been travelling for thirty\u2026one hours. All we wanted was to sleep\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

The motherfecker is calling in his marker. The funny thing about markers is that I never think about them when I’m setting one. Sure, sure, I owe you one, whatever<\/em>. Not only that, they always seem to get called in when I am least capable of handling it. Markers for supportive nights of drinking have been called in the night before midterm exams, markers for an emergency wedding date has been called the night I have box seats at a Phillies game.<\/p>\n

And markers for a long night of drinking is getting called in after almost 24 hours of being awake and 13 hours in the air. I know all the Caesar (or its delicious croutons) won\u2019t save me now, but I eat them nonetheless.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2026and you handed me a shot of Becherovka and a tram pass and told me to \u2018man up.\u2019 Remember?\u201d<\/p>\n

He waits.<\/p>\n

He waits.<\/p>\n

He waits.<\/p>\n

Finally, I nod with a throatful of lettuce.<\/p>\n

\u201cI need you to do that for me tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n

He needs help with something wedding related and I can\u2019t deny him. I tell my dad that I will be going to my brother\u2019s and my dad looks uncomfortable and warns me about the tux. I assure him that I will be back. He reminds me of our plans to go to the bookstore and have lunch the following morning. After the tux.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course. Can\u2019t wait,\u201d I say. I would never miss an opportunity to get books and this is a birthday trip, which not only means books, but free books. \u201cWhat time do you want to leave for the bookstore?\u201d I ask.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know,” he says. “Whenever you want. Eleven? Whenever you want. Maybe eleven?\u201d<\/p>\n

Translation: eleven<\/p>\n

\u201cHow about I get back around ten or so and we go at eleven?\u201d I suggest.<\/p>\n

\u201cSounds good. Whatever you want. See you about ten?\u201d<\/p>\n

By the time my brother and I hit Harry\u2019s Taproom<\/em> for a quick one, I am hallucinating with jetlag. The family intensity so far does not disappoint. I reason that if one is pulled from one\u2019s Comfort Zone one shouldn\u2019t expect to be comfortable whilst outside it. I sip my Maker\u2019s mark and rework my mantra:<\/p>\n

thirteen hours to free books<\/em><\/p>\n

after the tux<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It\u2019s Wednesday at 5:40 a.m. I am being wrenched from the warm embraces of my bed and Comfort Zone. I’m attending a wedding and I have to fly over the Atlantic Ocean. I have to fly over it again in five days. It’s my brother, one of six people on Earth for whom I would […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":4058,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4057","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-blog"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/damiengaleone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/10\/Marker.jpg?fit=274%2C206&ssl=1","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p1EvEu-13r","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4057","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=4057"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4057\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5745,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4057\/revisions\/5745"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/4058"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4057"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4057"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4057"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}