Mutant Summit 6: Justin's Wedding

IN THE BEGINNING...

Justin: Although I could, I shall have mercy upon you and spare you of the epic 19-tome saga that comprises how I met my wife Caramel (name changed to become something delicious), how we fell in love, and how we went from "Nice to meet you!" to "I now pronounce you man and wife!" in the space of eight months. I wouldn't dare take away from how incredible and thrilling it was to actually find myself married to such a wonderful creature, and so I tell her if she's reading — the day was, and always shall be, about you.

From tallest to shortest: PoolMan, Drew, Sue, Lissa and a Smurf incognito

However, on the week of April 23, 2005, another momentous occasion took place. I sent out invitations to all of my friends, electronic and flesh alike, and included the mutant staff in that mailing. I sincerely didn't expect any of them to really reply — you send out invites for weddings so people don't feel left out, I discovered — but was pleased as punch when PoolMan agreed to be one of my groomsmen (perhaps repaying the favor of my appearance at his wedding a year earlier) and no less than three of the other mutants found themselves able and willing to make the journey to Detroit, MI. As MRFH's staff is spread out literally all over the world, we've never been able to get together except in a few pairings, usually passing secret information from our governments to each other and nodding briskly.

This week, however, five mutants would meet, many for the first time. A truly scary thought — exciting, too. I can't speak for the others, but I was incredibly nervous at meeting these people who I considered my friends for years, at last. I'm pretty shy when I'm meeting people for the first time (although by day three I'm typically comfortable enough to be dancing in my boxers and singing in Russian). It didn't help that it was going to take place when I'd have the least amount of time to actually be with them. And while I don't regret my priorities that week, it was terrific to spend a few hours with them and to see them getting to know each other better. And in Pooly and Drew's case, consuming half of our country's stockpile of hooch.

You have to bear with me, because my memory of the week and what happened when is terribly hazy. I found myself rushing to the airport to pick up people no less than five times, juggling family, and handling tasks such as where is the cake, why can't we find the cake, and Justin you better cook us a cake right now. So I say with some assurance that PoolMan was able to arrive out in Detroit earlier that week, perhaps on Wednesday. It allowed us some time to actually do a mutant viewing of Battlefield Earth, although we were both somewhat distracted. Having gone through this whole process a year earlier, Pooly was pretty understanding and helpful as a whole (some of his help would come in the form of "You're wearing WHAT to the wedding now?" confidence builders). That brings us to Friday, the 22nd, and the day of the rehearsal dinner.

GETTING THERE WAS AN 1/8th OF THE FUN...

Sue: I'm not an adventurous person. Or rather, the adventurous things I do tend to be wrapped in the cotton wool of safety, planning and several escape clauses written, witnessed and duly notarized.

Detroit Metro Airport: You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.

So I wish to state for the record that I wasn't completely off my rocker when I made the decision to travel to the wild 'n woolly outskirts of Detroit both to attend the wedding of two people I'd never met in person and to hang out with an additional three strangers who I knew only from their writing under the less than reassuring heading of "The Mutant Reviewers From Hell".

For one thing, I knew that my great friend, Lissa, was going to be there along with her husband Duckie. Duckie's not an intimidating guy on first glance but he's a scientist and knows how to blow things up. Also I figured Lissa's blackbelt in Tae Kwon Do would serve as a nice deterrent to any unseemly behavior. Security was not going to be a problem.

Secondly, I'd spoken to the married man to be, Justin, on the phone several times and while I knew he was moderately insane, he was also incredibly nice. Third, I'd seen enough back and forth bantering between these folks online that I felt that I did know them pretty well, even sight unseen. Fourth, when you receive a wedding invitation that reads like the notice for a movie premiere, "On April 23rd, hear the wedding bells ROAR!", how can you not accept?

Besides, when our Canadian cohort, PoolMan, found out that he and I were the only mutants who'd be there without significant others (me because I didn't have one, and him because his wife couldn't get the time off work) he offered very gallantly to be my 'date' for the festivities. The downside was that Sean was planning on wearing his infamous kilt to the wedding. Heck, if he was going to be in a skirt, that meant I'd have to wear one too. Shopping commenced (a very humorous affair since I took my daughter with me for moral support and she howled like a spastic monkey at everything I tried on) and thusly prepared, I sallied forth.

I had a total hottie sitting next to me on the trip to Detroit. Unfortunately he also seemed totally narcoleptic. Or possessed. Almost before his rump (nice rump) hit the seat, his head was nodding in directions that should have been physically impossible. After a while I found watching his slumbering gymnastics even more fascinating than my Star Trek paperback.

We landed in good order - which is to say that the plane didn't lose a wing, its landing gear or do anything else to result in a tumbling ball of combusted aviation fuel. I don't mind a showy entrance, but I do object to splatter.

Once I'd de-planed (de plane! de plane! - sorry.) I considered waiting the extra twenty minutes to meet Lissa and Duckie's flight, but decided to stomp on my painfully shy and introverted psyche and went to meet my fate at the hands of the unknown. My primary thought, besides the urge to panic and run away and pretend I'd never been there, was a hope that I'd even be able to find the Mutant Welcoming Committee. I mean, what if they looked different from their pictures? What if they saw ME and decided to go hide behind a baggage cart until I went away? What if-

There they were. A giant of a man, and a giant of a man in a considerably more compact package. Standing side by side. Beaming.

I'm not sure what my first words to Justin were, but I know I looked up at PoolMan and blurted, "You really are tall." I would not be the last to say that.

"Haven't you looked at the pictures of us standing next to each other?" Justin asked somewhat grumpily. "Just how tall did you think I was?"

Nervously I cited his online confession of 3'9" and he rapidly dropped the subject. Waiting with my movie reviewing compatriots were two other wedding guests who weren't affiliated with the mutants, but proved that Justin's taste in friends is pretty wacky all across the board. Lance was just in from Japan, and I never decided if he was out of his mind naturally or just punch drunk from the long trip. I suspect both. And then there was Bob.

As we settled in to wait for Lissa and Howie's plane, the interrogation started. While Justin asked about my flight, and Sean inquired after my kids, Bob (who turned out to be a minister) asked me what my religious affiliation was.

"Born Methodist, raised Baptist and attend Presbyterian," I replied.

"Presbyterian!" he howled and gave me a palm stinging high five. "Hey, we were just discussing this! What's a synod?"

They were just discussing the definition of the word synod? Who were these people?

"Uhm... I have no idea," I answered truthfully, to which I received another high five.

"I don't either!" he beamed as though our combined ignorance would bond us forever. Over the course of the weekend, Bob and I would continue to exchange high fives for such diverse reasons as a mutual fondness for Italian food, or discovering that we were both carbon based life forms. My hand hurt for about a week.

We chatted and joked around for a while. The boys did a little dance number for my amusement and then Sean earnestly explained that he was currently writing Lord of the Rings - The Musical! He even sang a few lines in a booming and yet on-key voice to give me a feel for the production. Airport Security, I should add, watched the group with a mixture of dubious amusement and deep suspicion.

When Lissa and Howard finally arrived, Justin whooped with joy, raced across the lobby and threw himself into Howard's arms. The boys all manfully exchanged hugs, held hands and skipped around together while Lissa and I stood on the sidelines and chatted politely about the weather in a "we don't know any of these people, officer" sort of way.

Hey, someone had to show some dignity.

Eventually the testosterone wore down, plans were made, vehicles secured (anyone interested should ask Duckie about how he tried to murder the nice security guard lady with the windshield wiper) and we were off to rendevous with Drew and Lady Luck for lunch.

LUNCH, AND THE FINE ART OF FALLING...

PoolMan: I can still (just barely) remember back to those halcyon days of the original Mutant Summit, that zing in the air as Justin and I clapped hands for the first time and discovered how much cooler this job is when you get to hang out with your comrades. Heady, heady times. So to have just encountered Lissa and Sue (and the oft-rumoured real Duckie) at the airport at the same time was almost overpowering. As my wife can attest, I get hyper when I'm excited. And it's a tough deal trying to hold me down when I get uppity.

Pooly stole the church's tablecloth, and none of us were brave enough to call him on it.

So Drew walks into East Side Mario's.

The other Mutants reading this who were present are no doubt giggling to themselves, because the sentence "Drew walks into East Side Mario's" is basically setup, rising tension, and hilarious punchline all in one. Justin and I went absolutely batpoopy insane. We started yelling "DROOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" over and over and over again. In a crowded restaurant. In front of poor Drew's girlfriend, Lady Luck. There was a tense moment where I actually thought they might leave. I wouldn't have blamed them. Who flies into war-torn Detroit to get publicly humiliated before they've spoken Word One?

Here's me and J, hopping up and down in our chairs, hooting and pounding our chests in excitement, and poor Drew had this look of "oh my, what an expensive mistake I've just made" on his face. It's lucky we didn't start flinging food around. We were just so excited to meet even more Mutants.

Of course, once Drew got within Starevision range, we quieted down quickly. That boy has eyes. They can see through skin and bone and souls, leaving you weeping and lost in a whirl of emotion and insanity. They were the colour of the storm that claimed my father's life. I'm pretty sure I didn't see him blink the whole trip. He may not have eyelids. But I'm just kidding, my dad's still alive.

We then, of course, had lunch. I'm pretty sure I haven't been to an East Side Mario's before or since (yes, the chain exists here in Canada). There's something about not sullying the memory. Like ESM is the Mutants restaurant for all time. I honestly don't remember who had what, I just remember not caring. It was a beautiful moment. We had five Mutants in the same room. It's unheard of. I still dream of the day when we get the whole active gang in the same place at the same time, but until then, this will stand as one of the high water marks in MRFH history.

I think I may cry again; would you excuse me?

Justin: I'd like to add that we had no less than THREE cameras take pictures of our entire group there at East Side Mario's, and to this day, none of the pictures came out okay. It's a moment lost to time! NOOOOOOOOOO!