Chelsea's Wedding

Randall Nathan went to the “Good to the Last Slop Coffee Shop and Sweet Corn Exchange” this morning. Claire had told him to get something while he was there, something specific, but he couldn’t remember what it was. Some vegetable sort of thing. Yellow. Seasonal. He could think of all those attributes to what she wanted, but not of the thing itself. So he decided to have another cup of Moose Drool while he worked on it.

“I see here in the ‘Old Weird-Herald’ newspaper that Elsie Newmeadow died. It says she was living in Lungville, but that she formally lived in Snake Run,” said Zeke Dombrowski to the room at large.

“Shouldn’t that be ‘formerly’ instead of ‘formally?’” asked “Bruce the Bruce” Roach, leader of the Hell’s Angles Motorcycle Gang and Geometry Club, who was having Earl Grey decaf tea.

“Maybe she wore an evening gown in Snake Run,” said Eleanor Elegante’, the president of The Alter Guild at St. Swithbart’s Episcopal Church and Antique Auction House. They used to have an Altar Guild, but they started doing alternations to make money for their mission project to help the persimmon-deprived and stopped altering the altar.

“Yeah, that’s probably it,” said Bruce. “Anything else interesting in The OWH? ”

“Says Chelsea Clinton got married. You know, the girl who did that persimmon-deprivation research for her degree at Stanford.”

“Oh, yes. I wondered what happened to her,” said Eleanor.

“Says she married a Jewish boy. Had a traditional Jewish wedding, chuppah and Ketubah and everything. Served persimmon pudding at the reception.”

“That was a nice touch, considering her research here and all, but I’m not sure it’s Jewish,” said Edith Whistle, on her usual morning break from cooking at The Whistle & Thistle Pub and Broomcorn Exchange.

“Must be kosher, though, because it says the rabbi who did the service had been on a spiritual pilgrimage so he ate three helpings,” Zeke reported.

“Rabbi. I’ve never understood the appeal of that. What kind of job is that for a nice Jewish boy?” said Herschel Greenberg, of Greenberg Studebaker and DeSoto Sales & Service.

“But Chelsea went to The Methodist when she was here doing her research, didn’t she?” asked Bruce. “Didn’t they do a joint Jewish-Methodist wedding?”

“Yep,” said Zeke. “Says here in the OWH that there was a Methodist minister ‘in attendance.’ Sounds like he didn’t do anything. Guess he just had to be there to report to the Methodist headquarters, or something.”

“Hey, Randall, didn’t Bill call you and ask you to be the Methodist preacher for that wedding?” asked Pastor Patty. “How come you weren’t there?”

“Theological differences,” said Randall. “You know my vows do not allow me to eat persimmon pudding on a Saturday.”

“I thought Methodist headquarters was right here, since this is where all the Methodists hang out, right here at Good to the Last Slop Coffee House and Sweet Corn Exchange,” said Bruce

“Sweet corn! That was it! I want sweet corn!” yelled Randall Nathan.

“This is a sweet corn exchange,” said Maxwell House, the owner. “You got anything to exchange for it?”

“Money?”

“That will do,” said Max.


[Author’s note: In the obits in the Princeton, IN newspaper online for today, it actually does say that a lady “formally lived in Snake Run.”]

[Author’s additional note: My “religion for people in their winter years” blog is at http://www.christinwinter.blogspot.com/]