Road to the Altar
9/8/06

Despite the lack of blog updates, I assure you that the “road to the altar” (as one anonymous reader put it) has had plenty more lessons and epiphanies to recount. My eighth grade teacher, Mrs. Young, lived by a quote from Benjamin Franklin that said, “Never go to sleep at night without learning at least one new thing that day.” After logging an additional 546 miles (and yes, that’s completely accurate, I MapQuested it) down the infamous “road” this weekend, I learned enough for all of us to sleep soundly (at least until my next blog update).

One might wonder how one goes about logging 546 miles in one weekend, at least without boarding an airplane. Those who know us best, however, know that 546 miles is a walk-in-the-park for us Fockers. In fact, if it doesn’t require a passport or at least the removal of all liquid and/or gel type products from our luggage, Fockers don’t even count it as traveling.

This non-traveling weekend started Friday when Kristen flew in from Minneapolis.

(Sidebar #123212: I’ve recently decided that I hate saying the word “Minneapolis”. Reason being, you can’t seem to say it in a non-whiny fashion. I believe it has something to do with the “e” and “a” sounds running together like food on an un-separated dinner plate. No one likes it when their gravy runs off their mashed potatoes and fuses with their applesauce. Similarly, it seems to be public opinion that no one likes to say the name “Minneapolis.” Exhibit A) All professional sports teams are referred to by the less audio-repulsive “Minnesota”. It’s the Minnesota Twins, not Minneapolis Twins. Exhibit B) Paul Schmalbach. Paul was one of the early German settlers of the Twin Cities area who observed the ear-splitting nomenclature of “Minneapolis” and quickly began forming a neighboring town, of equal size and stature, so that people would be able to refer to the area as the “Twin Cities”. The locals in return were so grateful for Paul’s quick-mindedness, that they immediately had him canonized and named the ear-saving town in his memory.)

Kristen landed in the single-birth city of Chicago. (note that all vowels are distinctly separated by consonants) Saturday morning we immediately departed for Manitowoc, WI, hometown of Kristen, and appropriately enough where this infamous “road” will eventually end. Our time in Manitowoc was just long enough to collect a few extra Byrneses (Jack, Dina and birthday girl J-Lo.) J-Lo is my favorite little sister-in-law-to-be. She also happens to be Kristen’s Maid of Honor, so be sure to make note of that on 10/13.

The entire Byrnes clan was to gather in Wauwautosa that afternoon to commemorate J-Lo’s 18 years of life. The party was held in ‘Tosa (which is a safe way to refer to the city of Wauwautosa while steering clear of gravy and applesauce fusion). ‘Tosa, you’ll remember, is home of Noah & Joan’s ark, where everything comes in twos, even the nieces. Surprisingly enough, Joan was able to feed the masses (from what I’m guessing was two loaves and two chickens) and yield what seemed like at least two bushel baskets to spare. After we finished dessert (cake & ice cream, as even the guilty pleasures come in twos there), Kristen and I boarded the Byrnes bus back to Manitowoc.
Before you could decide whether the plural form of “Byrnes” is actually spelled “Byrneses,” it was Sunday, September 3rd. A day that brought with it the kind of feeling in your stomach that you get when you realize you may have just used the wrong toothbrush. Today was the day my parents (Frank and Marie) would sit down to dinner with Jack and Dina Byrnes. Going into it, I feared the worst. Visions of the First Thanksgiving were running through my head, and look how that ended. The Pilgrims eventually chased the Indians off of their own land and forced them to erect giant bingo & casino resorts with hard to pronounce names like “Potawatomi”.

This historic event started well. Kristen and I drove down to Kohler, WI to visit “Party Central” with my parents for the first time. --When in doubt, before trying anything new, Kristen an I always add a brief 60 miles of interstate. It helps us feel more at home.-- Frank and Marie loved the American Club, so we journeyed up the road a bit to a magical place called the “Kohler Design Center”. Those of you attending “I-Do-Octoberfest ‘07” take note. The Kohler Design Center does for indoor plumbing what Wrigley Field does for baseball. Ever wonder what a 30-foot wall of toilets in every color of the rainbow would look like? (Even if you hadn’t before I just said that, I bet you just did) Well, wonder no more. Come to Kohler, WI next October. Where Kristen and Jared will take the plunge, and you could too!

After the Great Wall of Porcelain, there was nothing stopping North meeting South. At approximately 3:14pm, we had met the parents. Nearly 10 minutes had passed and there were still no signs of mass deportation or an emerging Bingo & Casino franchise. This was a good sign.

But I had spoken too soon. As if having both worlds in one house wasn’t frightening enough, it was decided that we’d all pile into the Focker Family van for an impromptu episode of “Where in the World?” hosted by Jack Byrnes. My life was flashing before my eyes. Imagine the impending doom. One minivan, 4 in-laws, and 2 very stupid kids on the cusp of a very long engagement, helplessly strapped along for the ride.

I felt like I was on that “Jungle Cruise” ride at Walt Disney World. That miniature pontoon boat that glides innocently through the simulated jungle, but you can never relax completely because you know that at any minute, Disney will toe the line of G-rated family fun by having an animatronic alligator jump out of the river bed causing just enough of a disturbance for you to drop your Mickey Mouse ice cream bar on your lap and give your fellow shipmates something to immortalize this experience with.

Despite the lack of animatronics, I refrained from bringing ice cream or food of any variety along for this tour. Stop one was St. Francis of Assisi Church: the holy site where Kristen and I will exchange vows and become man and wife.

(Sidebar#987786: This always bothered me. It makes perfect sense that Kristen will become “wife”. Right now she is just “girlfriend” (or I guess you could say “fiancé” but I never know how to type in one of those accent marks on the computer so when I type the word fiancé it often times looks like I misspelled “finance”.) But if I am supposed to become “man”, what the heck am I now?)

At the church, Jack highlighted one point of interest. To the right of the altar (not that you should be looking anywhere besides directly at Kristen on her--- I mean OUR day...) there is the statue of the blessed mother. According to Jack, the statue’s name is “Our Lady of Victory” because as you will note, at the base of the statue, it looks as if Mary is standing on a Minnesota Viking’s helmet. (note: “Minnesota”)

Our tour then concluded with a very well narrated journey through downtown Manitowoc. Thankfully, no ice cream was spilled and we ended up back at the Byrnes estate where our educational tours continued. Jack gave my parents a tour of their beautiful home, since all that my parents have had to go on for the past five years was descriptions I had given them, and thus had nothing to go on at all. Dinner was deliciously prepared by Dina and J.Lo even graced us with her presence, having selflessly forgone her evening’s plans, in order to sit through what must have felt like 18 additional years of forced pleasantries.

But before anything even went remotely wrong, the night had ended. It was a complete success. And now that I have jinxed the relative compatibility of the in-laws, I will kick myself to sleep tonight wondering when the tides will turn.

That night, as Kristen and I drove back to Chicago (the final 163 miles of our non-traveling weekend) we counted our blessings as the infamous “meet the parents” weekend had seemed to go off without a hitch. Another milestone crossed. Another hurdle cleared. Another 546 miles down the “road to the altar”.



P.S. Confidential to “Aunt Jane”: Kristen and I received your cheap-shot present “Weddings for Dummies” –a back-handed compliment if I ever saw one. Enjoy your table IN the kitchen. Tell the photographer we said hi.