Congratulations, Jan and Karine!

Today I attended the wedding of my friends Jan Amtrup and Karine Megerdoomian. The ceremony was held at Saint John Garabed Armenian Church on 30th Street in San Diego (North Park area, as best I could tell). Upon arriving at the church, I was rather surprised by its mundane exterior. It reminded me of the Linda Vista Methodist church I attended as a child; the appearance was that of a blocky, green and gray utility building that had been converted to ecclesiastical use. Somehow I always expect Orthodox churches to be elaborately decorated with gold, mosaics and icons.

I arrived at 10:40, which was quite early, for the service that was held at noon. So, I took a few moments to stroll up and down the sidewalk and check out the neighborhood. Other than a few quaint homes from the early 20th century, I didn't notice anything remarkable. Lots of storefronts with peeling paint, a barber shop, some kind of clinic. I would have traveled farther but the sidewalk a few yards from the church was pretty broken up. It is an old sidewalk, of course, but one wonders how much longer the city government can continue to allow the urban infrastructure to decay.

My friend Harold lives 5 blocks from the church, but with MTS Access it's difficult to arrange multiple trips in the same day. Plus, some of the "homeys" in the neighborhood didn't look too friendly. Anyway, Harold and his kids were off in Borrego Springs for the weekend, so visiting him was a moot point.

We got the air conditioning repair estimate for my van yesterday. Good thing the state is paying for it--I need a new compressor! On Wednesday, Harold will drive the van up to Poway to a shop called Golden Boy. This is the business that will install the manual tie-down straps in my van so I can tool around town as a passenger in the vehicle I once used to drive (until my accident one year ago tomorrow).

There are a lot of places I'd like to go, once I get the van back. I need new shoes, since my right foot is just too "lumpen" to accomodate my old black leather dress shoes. I currently have been wearing white tennis shoes, size 9W. My usual size is 7W. I want to get measured at an actual shoe store and see what I can fit into now.

I also need to take my glasses prescription to Costco and buy new sunglasses. My previous pair were trashed in the accident.

Then there's the zoo. As soon as I can, I'm renewing my membership and visiting the zoo and Wild Animal Park frequently.

Oh, back to the ceremony. The wedding was conducted almost entirely in Armenian. The non-Armenians among the attendees mostly tried to follow along a printed program and stand and sit at the appropriate times. The Orthodox ceremony is very rich, full of chanting. The bride and groom receive crowns at the end, marking them as "King" and "Queen" of their new family.

None of the traditional western wedding music was played by the organist. No Mendelssohn, no Purcell. And, praise be to God--no "Wedding Song!" If the Pope had any backbone he would banish the "Wedding Song" from any Catholic ceremony forthwith and henceforth!

That being said, the music was rather slow and almost funereal. Besides the organist, there was a cantor who sang or chanted accompaniment. Inside the sanctuary, seven chandeliers hung from the ceiling. I'll have to do some research to figure out what their significance is to the liturgy.

The priest was an older, white-haired man, with a kindly, patriarchal voice. He said all the expected things during the (thankfully English) homily. He did manage to get in two little "digs" at the happy couple, however. Once during his homily he mentioned how Jan and Karine had been "married singly" but now they are married "as God wants." Then at the end, he said "I have the pleasure to be the first to announce Mr. and Mrs Jan...." [whispers from the bride and groom]... "Willers Amtrup and Karine Megerdoomian." It seems the priest couldn't quite accustom himself to the notion that the bride and groom would preserve their own last names.

At present, the reception is going on at the Prado in Balboa Park. I would have loved to attend it, but I could not risk the crazy scheduling of MTS.