Life's Like That
I’ve heard that bad things come in groups of three. To me that was nothing more than a bunch of malarkey. Sure, I accepted the adage that life is ‘what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.’ But, neatly packed up and delivered in threes? Now, that’s stretching the imagination. At least, that’s what I thought until the week of my wedding.
It all started on a Tuesday morning about five years ago. I was trimming my beard and mustache and rehearsing my replies to an imaginary interview that would take place for real later that morning at the executive office of the Sun newspaper in Toronto, when the phone rang. It was my bud, Peter, who was applying for the other editorial position. He informed me that he had arranged another day for his interview because he was too sick with the flu. After a few consoling words, suggested remedies and his repeated assurances that he would be okay for my ‘big day’—after-all he was going to be my best man Saturday—I hung up and headed out into the blustery and rainy March day with a fairly large degree of trepidation; a fear that was less about the interview than the drive in. You see, since Peter wasn’t driving, it meant that I had to drive my rickety 10-year-old Isuzu.
On my way to the interview, I stopped at the closest self-service gas station to fill up and get some oil. The fill up went fine but while I was pouring the oil a gust of wind came out of nowhere and slapped the oil over my best shirt, tie and dress jacket.
Actually, it was my only dress shirt, tie and jacket.
Already running late, I had no choice except to show up at the interview looking like a mechanic who had forgotten to change. Feeling already overly self conscious about my appearance, I stumbled through the hour long interview, shook their hesitant hands and left, thoroughly convinced that I had blown it.
Thursday evening I picked up my bride-to-be, Jeanne, and headed to the Fairmont Hotel to meet my future sister and brother-in-law and their four-year-old son for the first time. They had flown in the day before from the East Coast for the wedding on the Saturday. Their son,Tom, was going to be the ring bearer.
As we drove to the hotel, my mouth was sawdust dry with nervousness since it was my first time meeting them. And, like a...