[This is Part 2 in the multi-part epic describing the wedding I attended at the beginning of August 2002. Part 1 can be found here.]

When the plane landed in Portland, I got off and started walking through the airport. I dug out my cell phone to call Jaeger. The plan was for him to pick me up and drive me to Longview, where I would be staying in some as of yet unnamed residence for the weekend. Since the plane had been delayed, I thought it might be a good idea to advise Jaeger of it.

After calling, I found out that our timing had ended up being near-perfect. He was just nearing the airport in his vehicle, and I still needed to pick up my one item of baggage. Jaeger asked which baggage claim area my luggage would arrive at.

"Um.... 20 maybe." I wasn't certain. It had been announced through the fuzzy speakers when the plane landed, but I hadn't retained that crucial bit of information. But no worry, there were plenty of other ways to find out.

Jaeger suspected that the Portland airport wouldn't be large enough to contain 20 baggage carousels.

I said I would call back when I figured out a more definitive answer, and continued walking through the terminal.

This was one instance where cell phones proved their worth as a most useful device.

Eventually, I managed to locate the baggage carousel for my flight. It turned out the information givin on the plane would have been useless anyway, since the airport decided to perform last minute reassignments of the baggage claim areas anyway.

Jaeger walked into the terminal shortly before my bag came out on the conveyer belt. As soon as it appeared, I picked up my suitcase, and was ready to go.

Jaeger led me through the parking garage, to the car that is now officially known as Yoda, and we were off!

Before leaving Portland, we made a stop. I know nothing about this stop, or even of its very existence. I will say, however, that the Portland Best Buy has a rather nice selection in the DVD department.

Jaeger and I proceed north in Yoda, across the Washington border, merging from 205 onto I-5. During the trip, I got a crash course in the geography of Washington and Oregon. Portland. Longview. Walla Walla. Columbia River. Multnomah Falls. I could now locate them with reasonable accuracy on a map.

After what must have been an hour of driving through the Washington countryside, we arrived in Kelso / Longview. (Two cities which merge together to become one. Kind of like Louisville and Lafayette. The same place, really.)

We proceeded to a place that will be referred to as the "Stone Estate". (Hmmm... Why is it called that? It must be because of all the little gravel rocks in the driveway.) The house at the Stone Estate is a beautiful residence, situated on a tree-covered hill (the whole land is covered with forests around there), with a short winding dirt driveway and a miniature parking lot at the top. Big enough to comfortably park 4, 5, or 6 cars. Maybe more.

Upon entering, I saw some faces I vaguely recognized as people from ucollege.edu, but I didn't know them well enough to immediately recall names. We were re-introduced, and I also met the mother of the bride for the first time.

Jaeger showed me the garage of the Stone Estate, which could rightfully be considered a veritable museum of computer hardware, dating from the early 80s to the present. Floppy drives, hard drives, cards, keyboards, mice, processors, monitors, laptops.... TONS of stuff, shelved from floor to ceiling everywhere. Wow.

In the preparation-for-wedding department, Jaeger worked on assembling an updated version of the wedding cake topper, using some legos he had specially ordered for the event. Kiesa made final preparations to the wedding program. I smiled, nodded, and built random shapes with legos from the box.

Kiesa's mom made us some lunch consisting of magically flavored protein sculpted into the shape of burgers. It tasted good, and I was hungry, so I had a second helping. :)

Oh, and fruit. They had TONS of fruit. Good stuff too. Very juicy plums and peaches. It makes the produce sections of grocery stores in Colorado look rather shabby in comparison.

After lunch, Jaeger and Kiesa got underway with the dreaded task of writing Thank You notes for gifts they had already received.

Since there was nothing specific for me to do at the moment, I sat in a comfortable chair in the living room, read a little, listened to a little of the music I had carted along, and played a little of my Castlevania game. (It had been nearly a year since I last played it, so most of my playing consisted of me trying to remember how all the items and magic in my saved game inventory functioned.)

Since it's about time to conclude this portion of the wedding story, I'll close this section by relating a brief bit of dialog from the lunch conversation. Its inclusion here is not intended to shed a negative light on anything or anyone. My purpose in putting it here, in addition to general completeness, is to illustrate the difficulty often faced when someone of a different religious persuasion enters a community whose overwhelming majority of members share the same belief system.

(Similar stresses, experienced on an ongoing basis, may have likely been a contributory cause to my eventual departure from ucollege.edu.)

As we sat down to eat lunch, I commented to Kiesa's mother about how the area around Longview, Washington is such a beautiful place. Trees, fresh air, moisture. (The last of which Colorado has been severely lacking this past summer.)

No doubt assuming that since I had been selected as Best Man in the wedding, I would be of the same religion as the couple, she responded with this greeting: "Welcome to God's country." (Emphasis on "God's".) Uttered with all sincerity and good will.

As readers of this page know, I do not necessarily believe in the existence of a God. Even if I did think there might be a deity, it certainly would not take the same form as the God the Christians revere. Having been raised under the Seventh Day Adventist system, I personally find this particular deity quite distasteful in many regards.

Still, the comment was made with genuine hospitality in mind. I did not want to fight it, ether subtly or openly. It was meant with good intentions. But how could I answer without, (1) betraying my own convictions, or (2) being rude and/or turning the pleasant summer lunch table into an ugly theological debate? I could think of nothing to say which would fit within both of these parameters.

So, I simply, well... smiled and nodded. (That could become a recurring phrase in this story.) I may have muttered a "thank you". Then the conversation went on to other subjects, and the merry lunch continued.

[Coming someday: Part 3. Title TBD.]