Love is Forever

There’s nothing like a good wedding to give you a rosy glow for an entire week. Two young people, bonded in love, joyous and radiant – nothing is better than this. Then there’s the added bonus of schmoozing with people you haven’t seen for far too long. G-d, I love weddings.

My step-granddaughter was married on Sunday in a ceremony that was understated and elegant. There was no phony opulence. The bride was not drowning in masses of white tulle and did not arrive in a horse-drawn baroque carriage. No doves were released. Instead, she wore a gown that was gorgeous in its simplicity. The hall was decorated with white lilies. All was simple and tasteful.

Her grandfather would have been so proud. I drank a whiskey in his honor. Ok, two. He really didn’t drink a lot, but there was nothing that man liked more than a shot of scotch, a trait he shared with my own dad who taught me how to drink it.

I’m a romantic. I admit it. I believe that everyone has a soul mate. I believe that some things are just meant to be. Most of all, I believe that love is forever.

The House of Wine

A few years ago the kibbutz decided to open a restaurant/café/wine store called, prosaically, The House of Wine. It is located in a sturdy building that looks like an airplane hanger but was actually a cold storage room used by the kitchen. Why it was located in the middle of the dairy with the cows milling around it is a mystery to this day. But they have long since moved to their new dairy somewhere vaguely in the direction of the Kingdom of Jordan, leaving a nice chunk of land for building houses and a chunky building for the café.

The House of Wine is pleasantly decorated and landscaped with a few tables on the decking and some more on the lawn. Inside is a store that sells domestic and imported wine as well as the harder stuff. The food is acceptable, if not exactly inspiring, and it's a nice place to sit and scarf down a bucket of beer after a hard day's shopping. It's also a reasonable place to hold parties, wedding receptions and anything else that requires celebration.

As luck would have it, my house was built right next to The House of Wine. Convenient, you say? Yes, there's that. But when festivities are going on the noise can be invasive. The problem, of course, is entirely because of loud-speakers, the bane of civilization. I remember once hearing someone opine that the curse of modern civilization is unwanted music, and I have never heard a truer word spoken.

Tuesday evening there was a polite knock at the door. A woman told me there would be a wedding reception and apologized in advance for any noisy inconvenience. She then gave me a complementary bottle of Leffe Belgian beer as compensation. It was a nice gesture, much appreciated. It was also my first experience of Leffe, which is quite tasty. As it turned out, given the hemorrhage-inducing volume as the evening wore on, it would have taken a six-pack, no, two to make amends. But what I really don't understand is why you would have that raucous cacophony at your event when you could have a string quartet?