As I write this I am in Fairbanks, Alaska, it is 10:15 p.m. and the sky says it’s 4:00 p.m.  How did we decide it would be a good idea to travel to Alaska from Lafayette, California via Kansas City, Missouri? I’m not saying it was a bad idea, I’m just saying I have absolutely no idea what time it is, day it is, time zone it is and generally whether I’m supposed to be sleeping or awake.

The Kansas City part was a wedding.  So…leave Oakland International Airport on 7:30 a.m. flight, arrive around 1:00 p.m. CST.  At this point I become confused about time and space and never quite recover.  My conviction that time is an illusion is confirmed from here on out.  Later in the afternoon I pick up Al at the airport (he flew in from Denver where his work gig is at the moment…), we head directly to the rehearsal dinner for our niece’s wedding (Niece Lauren – try to keep it straight…).  I realize I have had nothing to eat since the airport Subway breakfast sandwich, and am starving, eating way too much at the pizza place – both pizza and drop dead delicious red velvet mini-cupcakes.  I am the designated driver, so don’t have a beverage until we arrive back at the hotel.  I enjoy a glass of red wine and retire for the night.  When I leave the hotel bar I leave behind the bride, the maid of honor and another bridesmaid, my husband, his two brothers, one sister-in-law and one niece (Jennie).

At three in the morning an intruder enters the hotel room where I am sleeping – oh wait, it’s just Al stumbling over our two big suitcases, two carry-ons and two “personal items” the size of yet another suitcase.  That’s what you get for hanging out with a young adult.  Jennie apparently forced the middle aged adults at gunpoint to go out to the Kansas City nightlife which is still hoppin’ in 2011.  They danced til 3 a.m.  Had I not been on that 7:30 a.m. flight I would have been part of the scene but the single glass of red wine turned me into Sleeping Beauty almost immediately.

The next morning I am up early to pick up Joe at the airport (these are half hour drives each way!) pick up his tux and stop for breakfast.  I am a good girl even though we have stopped at Steak n Shake  – a Missouri/Kansas must-do  – and I have a fruit/granola/yogurt plus one scrambled egg.  Joe is astonished that a burger and fries plate that would cost $12 in Denver is $3.99 and appropriately leaves the server a $5 tip to share in his good fortune!  I am a proud mother, and not for the last time this trip…

Back to the hotel where the reason for my self control at Steak n Shake is now underway.  Time to hop into the car with my in-laws and head to Boulevard Ribs – better than the world-famous-president-photo-op BBQ we went to the last time in Kansas City.  You know how those world famous places (we have several of them in San Francisco) ride on their laurels of 50 years ago and are pretty much mediocre…  Boulevard was fabulous and is definitely my Kansas City choice from now on.  (Jeff is going to KU in about a month – he thinks he will get away from me – nope.  Now I just have an excuse to visit the Midwest some more…)

The wedding is an evening wedding, and this time I’m up for the game. I shed a tear – literally – as Joe escorts his godmother, who happens to be the mother of the bride, down the aisle.  When did he grow taller than her?  He is so handsome!  The bride and groom are now husband and wife (shhh, don’t tell them what “better or worse” really means quite yet.  Let them have their moment…)  We dance til the DJ stops at midnight.  The dance floor is multigenerational and it’s quite the experience to discover that the next generation knows the words to Don’t Stop Believin’, each having their favorite line in the song that they sing out with emphasis.

Then the wedding ends – sadly, weddings should NEVER end.  The stunningly beautiful bride and groom depart and all the planning and anticipation is now just a memory for all.  The Sondag Family reunion is over…well not quite.  By this time we have two more young adults added to our entourage – my son Joe and John and Vicky’s son Brian.  We are all dead tired but venture out onto the Saturday night scene once again.  Downtown KC is really a blast.  The district is named KC Power and Light and includes an open air dance floor with a live band.  (This is where the others got snagged the night before).  We are all past the security when Al is stopped and not allowed in for — are you ready?—wearing polyester workout pants.  You know, the kind with the stripe down the side.  This despite the waist-at-the-knees attire of most of the young men and the skirt-hem-up-to-the-crotch attire of most of the young women.

We ended up at another outdoor patio for our final beer of the evening and weekend.  We said our goodbyes and went to bed.

to be continued…