Relatively Speaking: An apocalyptic pavilion party
The evening culminated with the two granddaughters, the wife and Raul performing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” with the band.
Jean Geist photo
One of the highlights of the summer for the wife and I is a visit from our daughter and family. This year, her visit coincided with a lawn concert we were having at our pavilion.
“Honey, this is going to be awesome,” I said to the wife, “not only will we get to do fun summer stuff, the daughter and granddaughters can help us set up for the lawn concert.”
“Now, dear, this is their vacation. I don’t want to ruin it by making them work,” the wife said.
“It’s not like I’m going to make them re-sod the lawn. I’m just talking about setting up a few chairs.”
“You know what would be fun too? Maybe they could walk around with appetizers for guests to munch. And the daughter could help me with setting up the buffet. This is going to be so much fun,” the wife tittered. “Don’t you think?”
“I’m still thinking about having them re-sod the lawn. That southwest corner of the backyard is looking a little iffy.”
As the party plans progressed, the guest list grew. What was supposed to be a party for 30-40 people was rapidly approaching 60.
“Look at the list. Look at the weather,” I panicked. “What are we going to do if we have to have 60 people and a band in our house?! The weathermen are predicting a 90% chance of severe weather conditions in our backyard.”
“Calm down, dad,” the daughter said. “This is all going to work out one way or another. Have you taken your blood pressure pill today? Because I can literally see your pulse in your temple. You might want to put some duct tape on that vein before she blows.”
When the weather predictions changed from severe conditions to 100% chance of apocalypse or the end of the world as we know it (complete with hail, flying cows and Volvos), the decision was made to postpone the party one day.
“Honey,” the wife said, “we are so lucky the band is available for the new date. And this will give us another 24 hours to prepare for the party.
The wife and the daughter are eternally positive people. They look at a glass and say that it is half full. I look at a glass and say, “If that’s real glass I’ll probably drop it, cut myself picking up the pieces, and bleed to death on the kitchen floor.”
The next day, the lawn concert went off without a hitch. We had 56 people surrounding the pavilion, plenty of food and drink, and lots of wonderful music.
The evening culminated with our two granddaughters, the wife, and I performing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” with the band. It was a pretty special moment, because what comes out after a storm?
According to the wife and daughter … a rainbow.
According to me, who always assumes the worst-case scenario, the only thing that comes out after a storm is the sound of chainsaws cutting up the tree that just fell on the house.
Raul Ascunce is a freelance columnist for the Sentinel-Tribune. He may be contacted at [email protected]