You May Now Plant a Big Briny Smooch on the Bride

Drove A1A, the shore road, to St. Augustine. Wanted to give my Drang und Strum cloud series another post. I stopped at a beach just south of Marineland. In my childhood, Marineland had porpoise acts and big tanks filled with all sorts of salt water denizens that had the unfortunate fortune to be netted and put on display. It then became a Florida Heritage Attraction - aging former tourist traps that some local historical societies felt - since the attractions had been such a major part of gouging Northerners for money to help build Florida - should be preserved to glorify Florida's dubious beginnings in the 20th century and as a tongue-stick/finger-wag to the stuffier members of their groups. (The same factions of these societies are attempting to get funds to preserve hanging chad.) Now it is the University of Florida marine research center where all sorts of salt water denizens that had the unfortunate fortune to be netted are experimented upon (kindly, of course.)

The jetties of coquina rock in this area make a stage on which seriously splashy wave theater of the photographically awesome variety usually takes place. But instead I found a wedding being staged at tides edge (high symbolism in my book). So I (without the couple's permission) took lots of snaps of the sandy procession and salt-laden nuptials.

This is an abridged (but not much) edition of how the occasion went down. A van parked beside the seaside walkway. It had "BEACH WEDDINGS" in large Comic Sans (high symbolism in my book) lettering down both sides. A tiny arch festooned with white tulle made its way to the sand. The couple helped put it up. Cooperative DIY seems a good start to a life of making things work together. Immediately, screams of "Rescue ME!!!" were heard from the wind-beaten, but clearly neurotic, tulle (high symbolism in my book). The couple retrieved their sandals from a blanket, engaged the footwear and trudged back up to the wooden stairway. They mounted the stairs, did a 180 at the landing, adjusted their attitudes to more befit the solemnity of a wedding and processed down the stairs and sand between two columns of friends and relatives (I suggest the normal contents of such a retinue without having checked) to the trembling arch (high symbolism...) They faced each other, read to each other from short slips of paper and held hands. I thought "You may now kiss the bride" and he did. Wow, that worked. So taking advantage of my suddenly acquired power of suggestion, I thought "You may now kick sand in the groom's face." Nope, at least not yet. But he (or maybe she or both) who had the unfortunate fortune to be netted, could now be put on display and experimented upon (kindly, of course - at least for the first few weeks.) Then the newly weds helped take the arch back to the van. And everyone got in their separate cars and drove off. High symbolism in my book.

As an alien to the whole process I thought "Live long and prosper". We shall see.