Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Part 87 - "Aye, I Do: Nautical Knots and Matrimonial Metaphors"
Preparations for the wedding were well underway when Cap’n Slappy remembered the most important preparation of all – Pre-marital Counseling.
“Alright you two! Sit down here and let me counsel ye about the nature o’ the beastie we call, ‘Wedded Freakin’ Bliss.’” Slappy’s tone was fatherly – drunken, belligerent and sarcastic. Classic Slappy.
“Begging the Cap’n’s pardon,” LefTENant Keeling began, “but Father Seamus Casey has been guiding us through this curriculum he developed for young couples in love who want to marry.” Keeling’s tone, in contrast to the captain’s was bright and hopeful. He held out a copy of a book entitled, “So, The Lord Your God Isn’t Good Enough For Ye And Ye’re Givin’ Into Yer Heathen Lusts!”
Slappy’s face was crestfallen – had he, in fact, been wearing a crest; his face would have fallen onto it. Fortunately, Red Molly picked up on this sudden shift in mood and offered this bone, “But of course, our pre-marital counseling would not be complete without actually talking to someone who has had a successful marriage.”
Slappy brightened, “That’s right! Father Seamus may be a know-it-all because he’s married to the church and all them nuns, but I’ve had at least six successful marriages!”
Keeling looked confused and began to ask, “Successful …?” But Slappy continued right over the top as was his custom. “Aye! Six successful marriages! Five successful divorces! And one successful, ‘Sorry Sweetheart, I lost you in a poker game to a Portuguese paint merchant. Fair and square, me darlin'! Fair and square!”
Red Molly and LefTENant Keeling glanced at each other, but neither asked a question –as painful as the withholding of it was.
For the next three hours, while Spencer and Gabriel worked at decorating the ship for a wedding with the help of Strumpet the Monkey, Slappy enlightened the young couple on the finer points of excuse-making, name-calling and resisting the impulse to throw the good crystal at each other. Finally, his lesson came to an end with a demonstration of how to dress quietly in order to sneak away in the middle of the night.
The young couple listened politely and even took notes. Finally, Ol’ Chumbucket suggested they go ahead and start the ceremony, as they would be able to hold the reception on land in a couple of hours.
“Excellent!” Slappy declared. “Are the Seconds ready?”
“Cap’n,” Chumbucket began, “I believe that the term ‘Seconds’ apply to dueling and not nuptials. I think the phrases you’re looking for are, ‘Best Man’ and ‘Maid of Honor.’”
Slappy seemed perplexed. “There’ll be no pistols?”
Chumbucket replied calmly, “I don’t believe they are customary, sir. Not even in a pirate wedding.”
Slappy looked hard at the young couple. “Then why did I spend forty-five minutes on close-quarter fighting?”
“I believe it was to illustrate a story you were telling about one of your wives – a ‘Shitty Meg?’” Keeling replied.
“‘Shifty,’ Sweetheart – her name was ‘Shifty Meg’ I believe.” Red Molly gently corrected.
“Ah, yes!” Slappy sighed, “Did I ever tell you about the time Shifty Meg and I were locked in the cellar of a mad French chef?”
“YES!!!” Keeling, Molly and Chumbucket all replied – desperate to keep the story from a third retelling of the day.
“Good times, good times.” Slappy smiled fondly at the unspoken memory.
“Well, I should go get ready and see if my maid of honor has thrown together his gown.” Red Molly quickly excused herself leaving her husband-to-be at the mercy of Cap’n Slappy’s well-meaning advice. Fortunately, the best man, Dogwatch, soon came in with some extra rations of rum he had tucked away as well as a cup of tea for the groom and the four men decided to forego talking in favor of drinking and sitting quietly for a while.
Before long, the wedding party was gathered on deck awaiting the arrival of the “bridesmaid” and bride. Los Mariachi played a traditional wedding march on his guitar and every man aboard stood at attention while Cementhands strolled down the center of the gathered assemblage holding what passed for a bouquet – a single coconut. He looked resplendent in yellow chiffon. Later, he insisted that the color was ‘citron,’ and there was no one who would argue the point.
A moment after he took his position, Red Molly entered from below. She looked stunning in her white silk gown. She even stole attention away from Madam McCormack - not easily done when in the presence of a big man in either yellow or ‘citron’ chiffon.
As she took her place next to the beaming LefTENant Keeling, her face was aglow with glee. Cap’n Slappy nodded to young Gabriel who handed him a book from which he was to read the ceremony and vows. Solemnly, Slappy cleared his throat, opened the book and began:
“A sheepshank can be used to shorten a length of rope or to take the strain off a worn area of rope. The worn area must be in the center turn of the knot so that the tightened outer turns bear the weight.”
Slappy began to tear up and confessed to the gathering, “Nautical metaphors always get me choked up.” He continued,
“Start with three crossing turns that are all in the same direction. Pull the left center crossing left through the middle of the left crossing turn from the front, while pulling the right center crossing right through the middle of the right crossing turn from behind.”
Slappy stopped suddenly and muttered, “I fail to follow the meaning of this metaphor.” He closed the book cover so he could see the title. “Tying Nautical Knots!?” he bellowed as he scowled directly at young Gabriel who began to laugh out loud.
The boys were both laughing in a moment and were joined by everyone in the crew – including Red Molly and LefTENant Keeling. Slappy was, as is his custom, the last one to get it – but soon he was smiling at the trick.
“Very good, lad. Now, be a good boy and hand Cap’n Slappy the book he WROTE!” A moment later, Slappy was checking the cover of another book.
Slappy asked, "Do you, LefTENant Keeling take this wench to be yer lawlessly wedded wife to have and to hold and to cuddle and to 'do the bouncy-bouncy' with from this day forward so long as ye both feel it's beneficial?"
Keeling choked with emotion but replied, "Aye, I do."
Slappy continued, "And do ye, Red Molly, bein' as ye are a fine lass that could certainly do better than this rascal despite all of it, take him to be yer awfully wedded pirate to bicker and to abuse, to cuddle and to 'do the bouncy-bouncy' with from this day forward so long as ye can stomach the sight o' him?"
A single tear rolled down her cheek as Red Molly whispered, "Aye, I do."
At one point the captain asked, “If there be anyone here who knows why this couple should not be bound in unholy matrimony, let him speak now or forever hold their wretched tongue.”
Depressed Doug replied, “She probably wouldn’t go out with me anyway. - What's the point in even asking?”
Slappy nodded toward Ol’ Chumbucket who slapped Depressed Doug on the back of the
head. Now satisfied, he began to recite vows that the couple repeated. The rest of the wedding sounded something like this:
I, LefTENant Keeling, take ye, Saucy Red Molly as me Heart, me Soul, me
Good Wench with a stout right hook, the bright dawn of each new day and
the soft bed of each day's night. I promise to love ye and honor ye; to
make ye laugh when yer feelin' out of sorts and pretend to listen to ye
when ye babble on and on about nothin' in particular. I will protect you
from the elements and the elephants should we ever encounter them as it is
my understanding that they can be very large and unpredictable. I will
love thee through scurvy and through fire, in wealth or poverty whether ye
be near or far. And when I speak of treasure, as I am wont to do, everyone
within the sound of me voice will know that what I am really speaking
about is you. All of this will I undertake until there are no horizons
left to chase and the rum is gone.
I, Saucy Red Molly, take ye, LefTENant Keeling as me Heart, me Soul, me
Salty Jack with a crooked smile, the foggy haze of each new day and the
lumpy (but familiar) mattress of each day's night. I promise to love ye
and honor ye; to make ye laugh so hard the rum comes out yer nose and
pretend to listen to ye when ye babble on about nothin' in particular. I
will protect you from my wrath and from giraffes which I understand are
very tall and will sometimes step on people because they are not looking
where they are stepping. I will love thee through scurvy and through fire,
in wealth or poverty whether ye be near or far. And when I speak of
treasure, as I am wont to do, everyone within the sound of me voice will
know that I am day dreaming again. All of this will I undertake until
there are no horizons left to chase and the rum is gone.
“I really don’t drink rum though.” Keeling pointed out.
“It’s a metaphor, son.” Slappy replied patiently.
“What’s it a metaphor for?” Keeling asked.
“The same as every other metaphor, son,” The Cap’n looked him in the eye,
“Dyin’.”
“Cheery.” Red Molly observed somewhat sarcastically.
“Aye!” Slappy replied, “What kind of wedding would it be without a cynical
reference to our ultimate demise?”
“A good one.” Cementhands chimed in dreamily. “But don’t let that stop you from
having your fun.”
Slappy glared at the big man for a moment, then fixed a smile on his face. “By the power vested in me by … well … me, I now pronounce ye Man and Wife! Ye may kiss the bride! – But no tongue – it’s unseemly.”
“Alright you two! Sit down here and let me counsel ye about the nature o’ the beastie we call, ‘Wedded Freakin’ Bliss.’” Slappy’s tone was fatherly – drunken, belligerent and sarcastic. Classic Slappy.
“Begging the Cap’n’s pardon,” LefTENant Keeling began, “but Father Seamus Casey has been guiding us through this curriculum he developed for young couples in love who want to marry.” Keeling’s tone, in contrast to the captain’s was bright and hopeful. He held out a copy of a book entitled, “So, The Lord Your God Isn’t Good Enough For Ye And Ye’re Givin’ Into Yer Heathen Lusts!”
Slappy’s face was crestfallen – had he, in fact, been wearing a crest; his face would have fallen onto it. Fortunately, Red Molly picked up on this sudden shift in mood and offered this bone, “But of course, our pre-marital counseling would not be complete without actually talking to someone who has had a successful marriage.”
Slappy brightened, “That’s right! Father Seamus may be a know-it-all because he’s married to the church and all them nuns, but I’ve had at least six successful marriages!”
Keeling looked confused and began to ask, “Successful …?” But Slappy continued right over the top as was his custom. “Aye! Six successful marriages! Five successful divorces! And one successful, ‘Sorry Sweetheart, I lost you in a poker game to a Portuguese paint merchant. Fair and square, me darlin'! Fair and square!”
Red Molly and LefTENant Keeling glanced at each other, but neither asked a question –as painful as the withholding of it was.
For the next three hours, while Spencer and Gabriel worked at decorating the ship for a wedding with the help of Strumpet the Monkey, Slappy enlightened the young couple on the finer points of excuse-making, name-calling and resisting the impulse to throw the good crystal at each other. Finally, his lesson came to an end with a demonstration of how to dress quietly in order to sneak away in the middle of the night.
The young couple listened politely and even took notes. Finally, Ol’ Chumbucket suggested they go ahead and start the ceremony, as they would be able to hold the reception on land in a couple of hours.
“Excellent!” Slappy declared. “Are the Seconds ready?”
“Cap’n,” Chumbucket began, “I believe that the term ‘Seconds’ apply to dueling and not nuptials. I think the phrases you’re looking for are, ‘Best Man’ and ‘Maid of Honor.’”
Slappy seemed perplexed. “There’ll be no pistols?”
Chumbucket replied calmly, “I don’t believe they are customary, sir. Not even in a pirate wedding.”
Slappy looked hard at the young couple. “Then why did I spend forty-five minutes on close-quarter fighting?”
“I believe it was to illustrate a story you were telling about one of your wives – a ‘Shitty Meg?’” Keeling replied.
“‘Shifty,’ Sweetheart – her name was ‘Shifty Meg’ I believe.” Red Molly gently corrected.
“Ah, yes!” Slappy sighed, “Did I ever tell you about the time Shifty Meg and I were locked in the cellar of a mad French chef?”
“YES!!!” Keeling, Molly and Chumbucket all replied – desperate to keep the story from a third retelling of the day.
“Good times, good times.” Slappy smiled fondly at the unspoken memory.
“Well, I should go get ready and see if my maid of honor has thrown together his gown.” Red Molly quickly excused herself leaving her husband-to-be at the mercy of Cap’n Slappy’s well-meaning advice. Fortunately, the best man, Dogwatch, soon came in with some extra rations of rum he had tucked away as well as a cup of tea for the groom and the four men decided to forego talking in favor of drinking and sitting quietly for a while.
Before long, the wedding party was gathered on deck awaiting the arrival of the “bridesmaid” and bride. Los Mariachi played a traditional wedding march on his guitar and every man aboard stood at attention while Cementhands strolled down the center of the gathered assemblage holding what passed for a bouquet – a single coconut. He looked resplendent in yellow chiffon. Later, he insisted that the color was ‘citron,’ and there was no one who would argue the point.
A moment after he took his position, Red Molly entered from below. She looked stunning in her white silk gown. She even stole attention away from Madam McCormack - not easily done when in the presence of a big man in either yellow or ‘citron’ chiffon.
As she took her place next to the beaming LefTENant Keeling, her face was aglow with glee. Cap’n Slappy nodded to young Gabriel who handed him a book from which he was to read the ceremony and vows. Solemnly, Slappy cleared his throat, opened the book and began:
“A sheepshank can be used to shorten a length of rope or to take the strain off a worn area of rope. The worn area must be in the center turn of the knot so that the tightened outer turns bear the weight.”
Slappy began to tear up and confessed to the gathering, “Nautical metaphors always get me choked up.” He continued,
“Start with three crossing turns that are all in the same direction. Pull the left center crossing left through the middle of the left crossing turn from the front, while pulling the right center crossing right through the middle of the right crossing turn from behind.”
Slappy stopped suddenly and muttered, “I fail to follow the meaning of this metaphor.” He closed the book cover so he could see the title. “Tying Nautical Knots!?” he bellowed as he scowled directly at young Gabriel who began to laugh out loud.
The boys were both laughing in a moment and were joined by everyone in the crew – including Red Molly and LefTENant Keeling. Slappy was, as is his custom, the last one to get it – but soon he was smiling at the trick.
“Very good, lad. Now, be a good boy and hand Cap’n Slappy the book he WROTE!” A moment later, Slappy was checking the cover of another book.
Slappy asked, "Do you, LefTENant Keeling take this wench to be yer lawlessly wedded wife to have and to hold and to cuddle and to 'do the bouncy-bouncy' with from this day forward so long as ye both feel it's beneficial?"
Keeling choked with emotion but replied, "Aye, I do."
Slappy continued, "And do ye, Red Molly, bein' as ye are a fine lass that could certainly do better than this rascal despite all of it, take him to be yer awfully wedded pirate to bicker and to abuse, to cuddle and to 'do the bouncy-bouncy' with from this day forward so long as ye can stomach the sight o' him?"
A single tear rolled down her cheek as Red Molly whispered, "Aye, I do."
At one point the captain asked, “If there be anyone here who knows why this couple should not be bound in unholy matrimony, let him speak now or forever hold their wretched tongue.”
Depressed Doug replied, “She probably wouldn’t go out with me anyway. - What's the point in even asking?”
Slappy nodded toward Ol’ Chumbucket who slapped Depressed Doug on the back of the
head. Now satisfied, he began to recite vows that the couple repeated. The rest of the wedding sounded something like this:
I, LefTENant Keeling, take ye, Saucy Red Molly as me Heart, me Soul, me
Good Wench with a stout right hook, the bright dawn of each new day and
the soft bed of each day's night. I promise to love ye and honor ye; to
make ye laugh when yer feelin' out of sorts and pretend to listen to ye
when ye babble on and on about nothin' in particular. I will protect you
from the elements and the elephants should we ever encounter them as it is
my understanding that they can be very large and unpredictable. I will
love thee through scurvy and through fire, in wealth or poverty whether ye
be near or far. And when I speak of treasure, as I am wont to do, everyone
within the sound of me voice will know that what I am really speaking
about is you. All of this will I undertake until there are no horizons
left to chase and the rum is gone.
I, Saucy Red Molly, take ye, LefTENant Keeling as me Heart, me Soul, me
Salty Jack with a crooked smile, the foggy haze of each new day and the
lumpy (but familiar) mattress of each day's night. I promise to love ye
and honor ye; to make ye laugh so hard the rum comes out yer nose and
pretend to listen to ye when ye babble on about nothin' in particular. I
will protect you from my wrath and from giraffes which I understand are
very tall and will sometimes step on people because they are not looking
where they are stepping. I will love thee through scurvy and through fire,
in wealth or poverty whether ye be near or far. And when I speak of
treasure, as I am wont to do, everyone within the sound of me voice will
know that I am day dreaming again. All of this will I undertake until
there are no horizons left to chase and the rum is gone.
“I really don’t drink rum though.” Keeling pointed out.
“It’s a metaphor, son.” Slappy replied patiently.
“What’s it a metaphor for?” Keeling asked.
“The same as every other metaphor, son,” The Cap’n looked him in the eye,
“Dyin’.”
“Cheery.” Red Molly observed somewhat sarcastically.
“Aye!” Slappy replied, “What kind of wedding would it be without a cynical
reference to our ultimate demise?”
“A good one.” Cementhands chimed in dreamily. “But don’t let that stop you from
having your fun.”
Slappy glared at the big man for a moment, then fixed a smile on his face. “By the power vested in me by … well … me, I now pronounce ye Man and Wife! Ye may kiss the bride! – But no tongue – it’s unseemly.”
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