Part of the way I make a living is performing/officiating for those rites of passage that are a part of life. As most clergy folk can attest, some of the best (aka craziest) stories come from the experience of leading a wedding or funeral. Now, the other part of the equation is that these are usually intended to be holy and solemn occasions. The events that lead to a joyful (or mournful) celebration becoming an “oh my gosh you wouldn’t believe” are many, varied and presented with high measures of anonymity and discretion to protect the guilty, innocent, drunk and ridiculous.
Tomorrow, I will be taking a boat trip to Alcatraz, the “rock” of lore where gangsters and criminals of all legendary sorts have been incarcerated up til the prison became a tourist attraction in the middle of San Francisco Bay. As one who lives here year round, it’s a particular rite of passage to make ones first trip to the fortress-ed island from Pier 33. My ability to avoid this trip for 15 years is apparently nothing to someone who has lived here for 40 years and managed to stay away. Til the ferry leaves around 10 on July 1. I think we need an “interdependence day” ritual to kick off this Independence Day weekend with tourists in town. So far, no one else is agreeing. I just may need to smuggle a bottle of champagne to smack against the side of the boat as we leave the dock. Wonder if that would land me behind bars?
Writing Prompt: I’d like to celebrate….