Get Me to the Church on Time...Max and Mel tie the knot

A longtime and dear friend, Melodee Hanes got married a few weeks ago. The 3rd time will most certainly be a charm. Her prince charming is Max Baucus, US Senator from the great state of Montana. They are an awesome couple.

The date was set for Saturday, July 2, 2011, and 20 miles north of Helena, MT., a ranch beneath a big sunshiny sky was the wedding site. I packed my bags early Friday morning and headed to the airport proudly toting everything I needed in carry on luggage, a true feat if you had any idea how many lotions and potions it takes to get this chick looking good these days. I tried to cheat but the TSA man at security politely informed me I must never have learned the difference between a quart and a gallon bag. I put my best blond foot forward and thanked him for pointing out the difference. And truly, I really didn't know the distinction between liquids and solids. I thought all pricey products connected with beauty and hygiene were suspect. But after lifting and separating, he crammed the liquids into a quart bag as I quickly collected all the solids and off I went to my gate with everything I'd come with and very relieved.

It was to be an easy flight. I would leave DSM at 10 AM, connect in Denver and arrive in Helena at 1 PM. Mel planned to pick me up, we'd hug and get sloppy for a minute or two and then meet her sisters and daughter and do a few remaining errands. Afterwards, I envisioned leisurely preparing for a wedding eve cocktail buffet held at the luxurious 6 bedroom town home where we would all be staying.

Sounds easy, sounds doable and it turned out to be an almost fairytale nightmare.

The plane coming from Chicago to take me and 51 other passengers to the mile high city did not arrive in DSM until after the connecting flight in Denver was missed. Can you believe it? Air travel is SO not reliable. After 2 hours of seat searching to Anywhere, Montana with no results, it became crystal clear the only place I was going was back out the airport door and home to West Des Moines, or possibly into custody if I continued to harass the distraught ticketing agent. I had used reasoning, utmost diplomacy, the sympathy card, and force but the bottom line was there were no seats on any flights into the state of Montana that day or the next due to the holiday weekend.

Trying to hold back the frustrated and disappointed emotions in my voice, I called Melodee to tell her she would be getting married without her Iowa gal pal at the party. She sadly took my information, passed it onto Max and within 15 minutes called back with two options: If I could get to Las Vegas on Saturday, there was a chance of hitching a ride on Air Force 2 since invited guest Vice President Joe Biden was there for official business. Good Lord and holy crapola. What a thrill for a has been pilot. Option #2 was to fly private with a friend of Max's. He was traveling from NYC late Friday afternoon and graciously offered to swoop his Hawker 800 jet down and out of the friendly skies, pick me up and deliver me from the airline evils, right into HLN (pilot talk for Helena.) His name was Les and he and his friend were headed to Jackson Hole, WY. to do some rock climbing Saturday morning before flying into Helena for the afternoon wedding. I opted to be picked up by Les because, after all, a wedding isn't just the ceremony. It's the party before and brunch and headache the morning after. So, promptly at 4:45 PM Les's plane landed DSM, took on a bit of fuel and off we jetted, direct to Jackson Hole where they deplaned to climb a face of the Grand Tetons before flying to Helena the next day. The pilots and I were up and away almost before I could say thank you for the 50th time. In a mere 7 hours I had been transformed from lower than an airline chambermaid to Cinderella. How does this stuff happen?

OK, enough about me. Wedding details coming forth!

After landing in hallelujah Helena, Mel's daughter Katie, and Max's Montana right arm, Holly Luck picked me up and took a bee line to the town home.
I arrived exactly 22 minutes late. Shoot, in my world, that's right on time. I could have been that late simply by over primping for the party in my room upstairs. Cocktails and a beautiful buffet of Thai food were served. There were about 40 guests and after a quick meet and greet, I grabbed some grub and a glass of wine and sat down at a table with the pastor, his wife and Mel's relatives from Washington DC. There was delightful conversation regarding faith, love, spirituality, the beauty of amazing grace and other welcomed topics to cool my jets, so to speak. And talk about amazing grace, my whole day had been amazing and graced beyond belief.

The party ended on the rooftop garden with champagne corks popping into the cool night air and we raised our glasses to the honored couple.

The Saturday afternoon ceremony and dinner was held on a ranch that has been in Max's family for generations. I'd have to do some googling to conceptualize how large 70,000 acres really is but suffice it to say, to an Iowa city girl, it's just plain big-ass Montana big. The guest list included 150 people; family, friends and neighbors. Also present were Max's staff workers, my new best friends, the New Yorkers, and me, the token Midwesterner. Oh, and the Vice President of the United States and a few secret service men in charge of him. The attire was a casual mix of sun dresses, jeans, cowboy boots and a few 10 gallon hats thrown in. Melodee looked radiant in a short dress that sang of summer ease and elegance. It was sleeveless with a rounded scooped collar and the fabric was a monochromatic pattern in a creamy white. Max, the Montanan, wore blue jeans, a beige shirt and boots.

The ceremony was slated to begin at half past 5. At promptly 5:29 PM, VP Biden came walking down the drive and was the cue to let the games begin. Max and Mel, surrounded by their children extraordinaire, stood above the crowd atop an old wagon where vows were said to each other and also to their kids. It was a very heartfelt moment as we witnessed their verbal commitment to love and honor the whole fam damily. Melodee was positively glowing. And as for handsome Max, I know without a doubt he had shelved any concerns about the debt ceiling, or any ceiling for that matter until Monday morning. Somehow, in the shuffling of the crowd, Les and Goody either ditched or lost me, but looking right I found myself standing next to VP Biden during the ceremony...kind of cool on a hot day.

After the I do's became I did's, the servers sprang to life and with toasting glasses in hand we raised them to the newly weds. Joe Biden didn't exactly steal the thunder but since he is the Vice President, much of the focus was on him. He was gracious with the crowd as pictures were taken and autographs given. And after about 45 minutes he wished the newlyweds all the best and left with his entourage.

Just before dinner, our attention was turned to the empty field about 300 yards away. Two men were preparing for an event that would legitimize the marriage for the Baucus family. Suddenly the men raised up from the ground and began running. Approximately 60 seconds later.....Ka-BOOM. A big metal anvil shot out of a box and high into the sky. A whole lot of gun powder and a fuse was the reason why and we all clapped at the sight. The anvil shoot is a marriage tradition and meant the deal was officially sealed!

Dinner was Montana beef with all the summer accouterments and a friendly woman named Charlotte invited me to join her and husband Charlie at their table. The others were lawyers from Billings and Great Falls and the Attorney General who had just been in Iowa to meet with our AG so it gave common ground for good discussion. Charlotte, along with practically every other person in attendance was so accommodating and friendly. I was like a man without a country but it was a great opportunity to meet many interesting people. No one knew me as Carol but rather as Mel's friend from Iowa who had experienced unfathomable trauma getting to Helena...trauma my foot! What was unfathomable was being able to tell United airlines to shove it and then travel in the lap of luxury sipping wine and engaging in interesting conversation with two very bright and successful men. It doesn't get any better than that and gives a whole new meaning to travel connections...Max's connections rock!

After dinner the sun set down behind the mountain back drop and the heat of the day went away. The little kids were given sparklers and ran around laughing and happy. It was just a perfect day. Mel had tired of her little silver sandals and traded them in for her tried and true cowgirl boots which made it easier to dance up a storm with her new husband. You can take the girl out of the west but you can't take the west out of the girl!

My wish for Max, Mel, Katie, Joey, Zeno and Stephanie is a long and happy future together. Just for added insurance to help that happen, I got up early Sunday morning...after staying up until 2 in the morning partying with the young 20 somethings... to walk the short distance to the most beautiful cathedral for a dose of religion and to light a candle for them, specifically for Max to live a long and healthy life. Any job in Washington these days has to give a guy constant heartburn....or worse.

Sunday brought a delicious brunch and later a boat ride on the Missouri River, the very one causing all the misery in western Iowa. The river, threading through massive walls of limestone was truly a sight to behold. That night I joined Mel's family for dinner and another late night, but it was worth it. Her kids and sisters and cousins are delightful and made me feel like part of the family....I gladly "let them put their Hanes on me," meaning welcoming a non family member. Ha. Remember the commercial for pantyhose?

The trip home was uneventful. I traveled with sister Wendy and her granddaughter as far as Denver and onto DSM with cousin Lisa and significant other, Jon. Her sisters and family are very fun . Another person worth mentioning is the boyfriend of Mel's daughter, Katie, JP...(not PJ.) He is in commercial real estate in San Diego and is one the cutest smart guys I've had the pleasure of meeting. Katie is a dream daughter who will begin law school in the fall. Also, 14 year old niece Kourtney is pretty awesome as is Mel's nephew James. Son Joey is emerging into one handsome and focused dude, now studying in Seattle. He's come a long way from the 11 lb. overdue newborn I met about 19 years ago. Max's son Zeno and his wife Stephanie are charming and sweet. They enabled my Starbucks addiction each morning and it was painful to say goodbye to them.

All in all, it's a miracle I got there, but it proves miracles happen and fairytales come true. I believe Mel and Max are just that, a fairytale come true because they found in one another the light of their lives. They are deeply committed and will do all the right things to stay that way. Life is good.

Thanks Max and Mel and Les for getting me to the Montana church on a wagon on time. Did I mention the in flight beverage and snack service included chilled wine and fresh banana cupcakes purchased in Manhattan earlier that day? Seriously, I am still wondering how it happened. I guess it comes under the heading.. it was meant to be.

So now that the wedding is over, it's back to worrying about the darn debt ceiling. Maybe congress should have tried shooting an anvil through it. Can you imagine? A wooden box, a whole lot of gun powder, a strategically placed anvil and the continued debate about which side of the aisle should light the fuse?.....the fuse that got shorter by the day?

Upward and Onward....and God Bless America!

Oh, Sweet Mystery of Life....

When a Saturday night rolls around and a girl finds herself high and dry in the social department, what's the solution? Take the initiative to invite 2 hunky guys to dinner.

Dave and Jamie had a party to attend and my golf game dinner plans didn't materialize so we joined forces and Auntie C. suddenly was back in the social chips bigger and better than ever having two young men at her beck and call:) Since it was such a great evening, we revved up the two kid stroller and walked over to the club where Jaxson and I had a bite to eat and Asher, who had dined earlier compliments of his mother, simply cooed and spit bubbles most of the evening.

This is 3 month old Asher who appears to be training to be a linebacker. He weighs a whopping 15 lbs., has eating, sleeping, normal bodily functions and spitting bubbles down pat. A handsome little guy. He also smiles upon request:)

Jaxson , the 3 year old has a smile that could stop traffic. Maybe he'll end up being a traffic cop someday!

I'm under the impression we may want to insure his thumbs soon. He's awesome with an I-pod.

Since the kids were so well behaved it was very fun. We passed our first test with flying colors. Way to go boys. We may get to have a second date if your parents agree and I promise to watch you with an eagle eye:)

About Aging

It's official. I can now identify with what a hunk of cheese must feel like....as in aging. And it's ironic this epiphany should occur the week of my birthday...(sigh.) As many of you know, I hurt my left shoulder last February and due to many events inbetween, it hasn't had much of a chance to heal due to the fact I need that side of my torso to operate since I'm left handed and right brained...quite probably wrong brained lately.

So last week when it became fact I couldn't swing a golf club, a call was immediately placed to the doctor, something I should have done at least a month ago. Blame it on the wrong brain.

I went today in hopes of a magic pill. But after X-rays and instead of a pill, the doc brought out a big old needle full of cortisone. That's what they recommend for aged people, as I recall. When I asked about the diagnosis, he said it was tendonitis, bursitis or rotator cuff difficulties....I could choose. I decided to go with tendonitis. It sounds the youngest and the coolest. Don't hot shot tennis players suffer from tendonitis? In fact, I think the little hottie Russian player with the long blond braid had it once...very cool. I'm feeling younger by the minute! Bring on the shoulder brace and a fake blond pony tail. I have TENDONITIS. Yahoo!!

Am so looking forward to the first painless drive down the fairway....10 days and counting. And I think a birthday present to myself will be one of the fancy drivers with a head as big as a watermelon that promises 20 or 30 more yards per drive, but hold the seeds and salt since I'm not sure how to repair a divot from a watermelon seed.

Happy Spring, everyone.

The Day the Lights went out in Daytona

It’s been forever since I’ve added to the blog and life has taken many turns. To quickly fill in the gaps, last August I went to college (again) and in December graduated (again.) I’ve finally had some successful as well as not so successful dating encounters, celebrated holidays, watched it snow and reveled in the February thaw. I’ve even re-entered the real estate biz with a dynamite new listing...call if interested…wonders never cease.

Mid February brings the Daytona 500 and cause to reminisce about being there 10 years ago. It was the year the race ended in tragedy as we watched the most famous crash in history, the one that killed Dale Earnhardt.

We had the condo in FL. and a friend offered us his par excellence tickets, 1st row above the start/finish line, the best seats in the outside house. Bright and early Sunday morning, from Siesta Key, Fl., we headed east across the state to Daytona Beach. A few miles from town, cars were parked along the road. We kept driving and spotted an empty lot directly across the street from the track. Paul pulled in to parking paradise, the PEP BOYS Auto Store where we found a lonely young man standing vigil in wait of people like us wanting to park. We offered him $100.00 for the privilege and the poor boy looked sick but said he couldn't take it so we asked if the manager was around and went inside to make the same offer. We were turned down a second time. Mr. Manager stood his ground defending his parking lot to paying PEPBOY customers only. Neither one of us were feeling like mental rock stars after the long drive but I saw the invisible light bulb go on above Paul’s head as he asked if they were servicing cars that day and, if so, the price for an oil change and rotation of tires. The manager replied they were open for business and the cost was $69.95 plus tax but couldn't guarantee the car would be ready until the end of the day. Duh, duh, and double duh. It took all of a second for Paul to hand over the keys and say the words, “write ‘er up, we’ll be back by closing time.” Doing the math, he’d saved a whopping 30 dollars and new oil to boot and off we went across the street to the one of the most significant and memorable NASCAR races in history.

The day was Florida magnificent with warm sunshine and cool breezes. Not only did we have premier seats at a happening national event but also, the mood of the day gave license to consuming all the hot dogs and beer we wanted. We could also yell and scream like real race fans. Normally, you couldn't pay me to watch a car race but this was the DAYTONA and I was right there in the thick of things, so cool!

The interior track area was off the charts colorful and active and after standing to honor Old Glory during the Star Spangled Banner, the gentlemen started their engines and were underway. There was plenty of action to keep things interesting, the most notable was mid race and across the track. At least 20 cars piled up in mass destruction but luckily everyone walked away unscathed and we relished (no hot dog pun intended) in the excitement….until roughly 30 seconds before the end of the race. All the sudden, just before the final turn to the finish, a car hit another and we watched it slam into the wall. There was smoke, skidding and gasps, but only 2 cars fell from the pack headed to the finish line. In a blink of an eye, the winner crossed the line and the crowd went wild.

Meanwhile, the 2 stilled cars sat silent after sliding across the track from the wall to the other side. All eyes turned from the finish line to the direction of the accident and watched as one of the drivers finally climbed from his car. The other car, #3, remained lifeless like, as we were to discover later, its driver inside. Rescue vehicles and paramedics rushed to the site. Hushed comments began working through the crowd, “It’s #3, Earnhardt.” “Yea, Earnhardt.” “Anyone see him yet?” “No, but he’ll climb out in a minute, he’s the man, invincible.” “Yea, too mean to die.” We waited in silence, willing him to show his head out of the side of his car so we could cheer his escape from death. But the car and driver remained inactive, a complete 180 from the surrounding commotion.

The day, in all its joyful glory ended with a hushed crowd and feel of impending tragedy as it was apparent Dale was not conscious. We watched while the team of rescue workers went to task. Little did they know this was the time they were going to pull a lifeless body from the wreckage. A few hours earlier we’d seen 10 times more cars pile up and every one of the drivers walked away. How on earth could this seemingly less violent 2 car crash be more serious? It honestly seemed minor by comparison.

No one anticipated the outcome. He was dead.

There you have it, race fans. Dale Earnhardt was a man with a passion and need for speed. Loved or not, he was certainly a legend and I will always remember that day and the Daytona Race every February.