Forever Paisley

This past weekend it was off to Grand Rapids, MI for my cousin Matt’s wedding.   On my way back to Michigan my redeye flight from Seattle had to make an emergency stop in Montana to deplane a passanger who was suffering from chest pains.   After an hour on the tar mat in Billings, MO it was clear that I was not going to make my connection in Minneapolis.   Every family gathering that I can remember has been paired with its fair share of comical drama, rule breaking and unforeseen events.  I took my pit stop in Montana as a sign that this weekend would be no different.

When I arrived in Michigan, I was reintroduced to the humidity I had gladly forgotten, surrounded by familiar faces and reminded of my roots, the people, the places and the events that molded me into who I am.  With three generations united, a cause to celebrate and a fully stocked hotel bar, there were no dull moments.  A few highlights …

• A Toast to Remember: Toasts.  A common occurrence in our family.  We toast in the sauna before risking our lives for a Lake Superior swim, we mix manhattans to toast to those who have left us behind, and we toast in moments of triumph, like when Myrna loses at a game of Trivial Pursuit.  Matt, the first of the six “Olson” first cousins to walk down the aisle certainly deserved a toast this weekend.  When the family gathered after the rehearsal dinner I quickly ordered and distributed a round of 18 Washington Apples (appropriate coming from a Seattleite) to three Scandinavian generations.  25 years old, 81 years old … it didn’t matter.  Together, we raised our glasses, toasted to Matt’s next chapter and … gulp!  To Matt and Amanda.
• Slumber Parties: Keeping with our Skanee tradition this weekend was full of slumber parties.  Our traditional “bat room” vs. comfortable-fireside-couch competition morphed into a hotel bed vs. pull-out couch vs. cushions-on-the-floor rivalry.  I was lucky enough to snag a spot in a bed both evenings.  Derek, my cousin Lauren’s boyfriend, had the pleasure of meeting and sleeping with us all for the first time (lucky guy).  He was a good sport.  On Friday evening as Angie, Lauren, Derek and I crawled into bed it was apparent that he was going to fit right in.  As we prepared to turned out the lights Lauren turned to him and whispered, “see I told you this would be fun”.  Lauren was right, it was fun … it was a blast, but it was time to retire.  “Okay, spoon to the right”, Angie hollered.  Position assumed.  Slumber party accomplished.
• A First Time for Everything: This weekend I got to see my Dad suited up in a tux for the first time in my life.  Growing up I became accustom to seeing my Dad in seasonal “outfits” – his Carhartt brown extreme-weather snowsuit for Winter ice fishing, green waiters and a thermal layer for catching Carp River trout in the Spring, cargo shorts and a t-shirt for trolling Lake Superior in the Summer months, jeans and a sweatshirt while casting for walleye in the Fall.  My dad is avid fisherman and loves the outdoors, a lifestyle that rarely requires the use of a tuxedo.  I felt privileged to have witnessed such a unique event. Luckily I snagged a couple of pictures, because immediately after dinner he darted to the car and changed.  It was fun while it lasted …
• Classic Performances: Within our family we have dancers, musicians, artists, actors and writers.  In addition to our trained talents we have also been heavily influenced by a long line of immensely charismatic ancestors.  Being raised in an environment where “booby traps”, off the cuff jokes, tasteless pranks and “full moons” are part of your normal reality, one could argue that life is just one continuous performance.  A never-ending slapstick comedy.  The acts of this weekend proved to be no different.  From broken toilet seats to confiscated alcohol, we all walked away with stories galore.  If you see Uncle Bud, send him my way … because I found the Ocean.
• A “Midnight” Run: On Friday night I enjoyed my first long distance run, since my knee surgery … at 2:08AM, sprinting to Burger King, in flip-flops.  I was determined to get there before they closed at 2:30AM.  I arrived with minutes to spare, but as it turns out you can’t go through the drive-through window on foot.  So … thank you Keegan, random Grand Rapids Burger King patron, for letting us ride through the drive-through in your mom’s mini-van.  I hope you enjoyed that whopper with no onions.  It was because of you that I was able to my remedy my family’s alcohol induced starvation.

All in all it was a great weekend.  Despite consuming one too many PBR’s and ingesting serving upon serving of hearty midwestern cuisine, I walked away feeling refreshed.  Thank you Matt and Amanda for creating such a wonderful weekend, had grandpa been there I can only imagine that his closing words would have been … “Rooty, Tooty”.  Enjoy the Smokies!

Day 9,379.  Next stop for me … LA for a little bit of work and a little bit of play.