With this ring (aka The Great Ketchup Conflict)

June of 1999 was a very special year for us in Freeport.  We brought our friends Tim and Ann along, as well as another couple, Ron and Susan Landreth.  Tim and Ron were in a band called White Men in Debt, so they brought their guitars along with them.  If you've ever known anyone who's in a band, their instruments are just as much a part of them as their arms and legs.  Where they go, the instrument goes.  Since Tim's guitar (Gilda) is a 1965 Guild 12-string acoustic guitar, and worth a lot of money as well as being irreplaceable, he brought it as carry-on luggage.  Weeks before we left, he carefully checked the size of the overhead bins in all the planes on which we would be passengers.  So now, not only would we have sun, sand, sea and surf, we would be serenaded in the moonlight (and the daylight).

Actually, there was another reason the six of us were going to the Bahamas.  Tim and Ann were getting married.  It was sort of an elopement.  Both Tim and Ann have lived in High Point, North Carolina all their lives (except for the short while Tim lived in Baltimore).  Both of their families are prominent and well known.  Tim is an only child, Ann is an only daughter (she has one brother).  If they had decided to get married in High Point, the mothers of both bride and groom would have insisted on a formal wedding.  The whole thing would have turned into a three ring circus, which is exactly what Tim and Ann wanted to avoid.  So they eloped to Freeport with four of their closest friends.  Conveniently, Bud and I had a timeshare where we could all stay for free.  However, arranging a wedding meant there were several tasks involved that would be unlike anything we had ever done in Freeport in the past.

Fortunately, one of the first things we did was find a taxi driver and make him our personal valet.  His name was Dudley, and after our first fare he gave us his business card and told us to call him anytime, day or night, when we needed to go anywhere.  He was as good as his word.  The trips to the grocery store to get enough breakfast and lunch food for six people for a week were so much easier with your own personal driver.  The trips to the liquor store didn't require a driver, since the liquor stores were handily located within walking distance just across the street at the International Bazaar, but if he saw us trudging back with arms loaded, he would pick us up and drive us to the hotel front door.  The trips to the government buildings to get the marriage license and arrange for a minister were far less painful with Dudley showing the way and greasing the wheels to get through the red tape.  He was pleasant, punctual, informative, and turned out to be one of the best things to happen to us on any trip to Freeport.  One evening we were walking back from the casino and it started to rain.  We were all going to make a run for it, but as soon as we ran out from under the canopy, there was Dudley, offering us a ride back to the hotel so we wouldn't get wet.  He wouldn't even let us pay him.  We invited him to the wedding, but he said he needed to drive and make money.  He was in a competition for something like "cabbie of the year", and he was in the lead.  He didn't want to lose his edge.  He certainly would get our vote for cabbie of the decade.

Once all the wedding details were arranged, we settled into some serious recreating.  One day we all went to the beach, but the guys did not bring their instruments.  Such a shame, because that day there was a local band playing at the snack shack.  Tim and Ron could not resist joining the band.  The Bahamian band did not know all the words to Margaritaville so Tim and Ron went up to teach them, while the rest of us in the peanut gallery sang along.  After the impromptu show, we decided to get something to eat.  The guys went up to the shack for burgers and fries.  Ann asked Tim to get a large order of fries so they could share them.  And that's how it started -- The Great Ketchup Conflict.  Ann likes her ketchup in a large puddle to the side for dipping the fries.  Actually, I prefer my ketchup that way too.  Tim, on the other hand, wants his ketchup squirted all over the top of the fries, and that's exactly what he did (Bud coats his fries with blobs of ketchup too).  When he arrived at the table with the obviously now tainted fries, Ann went just a little bit ballistic.  Now, in Ann's defense I must say, she was about to get married and she was suffering some formidable premarriage jitters.  This was not her first marriage, so I would have thought it wouldn't mess with her head so much, but she was on the verge of becoming a serious basket case.  It would have been a simple matter for Tim to just pour ketchup all over only half of the fries, but thoughts like that never enter Tim's universe.  The rest of us just sat there flabbergasted as the ketchup debacle escalated into hostilities just short of bloodshed.  It appeared a few streams of ketchup were going to doom the nuptials.  Fortunately, calmer heads eventually prevailed, but the escapade will live forever in the minds of those present.

Other than premarital delirium, the wedding went off with only one more minor hitch.  The original plan was to hold the service in the gardens outside the hotel.  Unfortunately, Mother Nature chose that particular time to be a little cranky herself, and we had to move to the hotel lobby to keep from getting drenched.   The lobby, of course, meant everyone passing through now became an uninvited guest at the performance, but, hey, we're nothing if not versatile.  Tim wore his dress white shorts and formal flip flops.  We did make him put down his snifter of scotch until after the ritualistic ceremony.  Ann dressed more formally, and managed to make it through without further drama.  Once the "I will" parts were done, the now significantly larger audience applauded the newlyweds, the proper paperwork was completed, and we adjourned to the bar for further celebrations.  The rest of the week was a happy honeymoon for all.

While Ann was taking a shower to get ready for the wedding, Tim wrote a love song for her.  He really doesn't do love songs often, so I, for one, was quite impressed.  He also wrote it in less time than it took Ann to complete her shower.  The song, and the lovely couple are shown below.

The Bougainvillea Waltz

  By Tim Webb

Bougainvillea, my darling,

Grows by our window tonight.

We are down in the islands

And everything's gonna be all right.

Chorus

I hear your voice in the darkness, 

I feel your body close to mine.

Yes, we are back in the islands

And everything's gonna be just fine.

We've been a long time coming

To the place we have found.

We will be down be the ocean

When the sun goes down.

I hear the rain on the window.

I hear the wind in the trees.

I smell the fragrance of the flowers.

I'm glad that you are here with me.