Imagine Vegas, but replace "Girls Girls Girls" with "Jesus Jesus Jesus".

That's Branson Missouri, where my poor friend was getting married. He had been the bassist with me in a short lived and absolutely terrible metal band out of Raleigh, NC. We never even cut a single song. His future wife's family was super religious while he was an unrepentant pagan who worshiped the "old gods" and had a small shrine to Thor. He also collected the comics because "Thor is awesome".

See Part 1 here: https://steemit.com/travel/@rampant/the-ironhorse-boogie-crossing-the-usa-on-a-harley-part-1

> more of Branson

For the glory of Thor

My dear friend was kinda bummed about the whole hyper Christian thing, so he had hatched a plan. He had two issues:

1. He didn't want a christian ceremony
2. He wanted something more metal.

About a month prior, he had scoured the internet and found a most unusual "non-denominational" priest. A massively fat man with a huge bushy beard. Like Santa only in black robes plus some chanting and spiky bling. Let's call him Dark Gandalf.

Working with Dark Gandalf, the two worked out this VERY carefully worded wedding ceremony that never mentioned God, or Jesus, but still sounded kinda religious-y enough that if you weren't paying attention you probably wouldn't realize the omission. So that solved problem 1. No Christian ceremony, and the priest wore a black, hooded robe that could be almost anything.

Making the ceremony a bit more metal, that's where I came in.

"Can I Give You a Mohawk?"

None of his wife's extended family had met me. And in my absence he had let them know I was a cool guy, totally chill, a homeowner, etc. This was all part of his plan.

The night before the actual ceremony, he and his bride to be showed up at my hotel room.

"Hey man, we have a wedding favor"
"sure, anything! name it"
"We want you to have a mohawk"

His wife took this moment to hold up the electric razor they had brought for this purpose.

"Fuck it, sure"

So in the bathroom we went, and off went all the hair on the sides of my head. I already had pretty big gauges and as luck would have it I had brought some rather bad-ass looking jewelry.

> Best man material right here.

As luck would have it, I had chosen to wear my skull emblazoned leathers (I highly recommend this jacket from leatherup.com. This is an unpaid very happy endorsement.)

So the stage was set. I'd show up, in leather, mohawk, and jewelry, and then change into the "Wedding garb".

So show up I did. Dressed in black leather, on a Harley with roaring pipes, spikes coming out of my ears and a Mohawk on my head.

Cinnamon makes God love you more?

I showed up at the house my friend had rented for his ceremony (No churches, remember). It was already filled with most of the other guests as I was purposefully fashionably late for maximum impact. But as it happens, someone had already taken things into the weird.

"Oh thank god" my friend said.
"What's up?"
"Her grandmother has been telling the kids to 'put their hands in cinnamon because it makes Jesus love you more'
"What type of Christianity is THAT?"
"The extra weird kind, I guess".

It was kind of a shame. While my new gothic presence definitely had an effect there wasn't the intended emotional U-turn. All I got were a few intense stares and the start of a few hushed, worried conversations. Shit.

I try to make the best of it, being friendly until the actual Ceremony. A few awkward conversations later, Dark Gandalf began the proceedings.

"We are gathered in this holy place... "

I am doing my absolute best to not grin like an idiot knowing the real purpose of the ceremony as all the cross clad people on the other side of the room happily beeming at what they thought would help unite their children with jesus, and I guess Cinnamon (Still don't understand WTF that was about. Anybody know? I've wondered ever since).

"To unite these two lovers in the tradition of their ancestors..."

The ceremony continued, with a lot of references to antiquity, and tradition, and so on. It really was a marvelous bit of writing.

"So let it be, that these two are joined... "

Dark Gandalf continued, and then tied the two's hands together. Everyone clapped and cheered, the husband kissed the bride, and then the festivities continued in the most universal of ways: We all got drunk and ate more than anyone ever should.

So tell me... Where did you meet my new grandson?

About 4 drinks and a ton of nachos in, I suddenly was confronted by Grandma Cinnamon. THAT grandma, whose strange and odd form of Christianity dispensed holy favor through the cunning application of grocery store spices. She walked up, locked eyes with me, and then after a long and intense pause where I could tell she was evaluating me with every ounce of her being, she spoke:

"So tell me... Where did you meet my new grandson?"

I cannot know if the drinks helped or hurt, but I personally believe what I did next was worth of an Oscar. It was the best most well sold lie of my life.

"Well.... one day in church he stood up and talked about how much the Lord had blessed his life by him finding his girlfriend and made him an honest man and led him to live better. He gave this great talk about it and I just knew I had to meet him. So I went up and talked to him after service and we've been friends ever since."

A long pause followed and she stared me down. It took everything I had to keep my face straight. Finally after a small eternity she just said "OK", and was gone.

WHEW.

I took this opportunity to exit the building before the illusion was up. I'd appropriately metal-ified as much as we could the proceedings, but if his wife's family figured it out it would go bad. His wife's father was busy trying to get him a job that he desperately needed. Get out while you're ahead, you know?

As it happens, my now-married friend was outside. I told him I was bailing and we agreed to meet up the next day before I went on my merry way.

Mission Accomplished, Family Confused, Time to leave

The next morning my friend, his wife, his family (who thought the whole thing was hilarious), and I had a big final breakfast together. We laughed about the Cinnamon (seriously, WTF), and then it was time for the open road.

I realized that 3 days to missouri was 1/3 of the country. 3 days back and it was as if i'd gone 2/3 across the country. I'd always dreamed of going the whole way. I had my laptop, tons of clothes and cash. Fuck it.

So I told my friend I wasn't going to join the caravan back to NC. I was headed west. The time was now, the decision was made, the bike was strong. Time for my journey to REALLY begin.

Westward!

Part 1: https://steemit.com/travel/@rampant/the-ironhorse-boogie-crossing-the-usa-on-a-harley-part-1