I promised you an update on the long-range weather forecasts for my daughter’s wedding on June 27.  Here were the forecasts for that day, from June 14 to June 26, in graphic form (click to enlarge):

The actual high temperature on June 27 was a comfortable 79F, and it did actually rain that afternoon.  An hour or so after the wedding, while my daughter was back at our house adjusting her gown, a wind-driven downpour blew through the park, forcing some to take cover in their cars, others to huddle together under the picnic shelter.  The storm lasted about 15 minutes, but then the sun came out, everyone helped dry things off, and the reception was underway again.  My jacket was hopelessly soaked but no longer needed.

Now to those forecasts.  With respect to high temperature, I would call a forecast that is within 0-2 degrees of actual as very good, 3-5 degrees away from actual as fair, and 6 or more degrees from actual as useless.  Using this scale, four of the 13 temperature forecasts were very good, two were fair, and the other seven were useless.  All four of the very good forecasts were made within five days of the wedding.  Six of the seven useless forecasts were posted more than a week in advance.

Regarding forecasts for rain, we should first ask, what comprises a successful forecast?  For example, if a forecast calls for a 50% chance of rain, what outcome would mean the forecast was right?  After all, one can’t have it both ways.  So I suggest that a forecast of 0-30% chance of rain is very good if it doesn’t rain and useless if it does; a forecast of 40-60% chance of rain is inherently useless because it doesn’t allow people to make plans; and a forecast of 70-100% chance is very good if it does rain and useless if it does not.

Given this, I score three of the rain forecasts as very good and all the others (40 to 60 percent chance) as useless.  Two of the three very good forecasts were posted on the Thursday and Friday leading up to the Saturday wedding.

My conclusion from this mini-study is that forecasts more than three days in advance are more or less useless around here.  If you want a long-range forecast, you could simply look at the historic average temperature for the day (which for June 27 is 83.8 F) and the historic chance of rain that day (which is 60%) and not be far off.

• • • •

“Who cares about weather, what about the knot?” you ask in exasperation.  In short, the ceremony was wonderful.  I have never seen my daughter so happy or so beautiful.  It was nice to meet her husband’s family and visit again with our own family, some who traveled across the country to attend.  Plus, the wedding cake was delicious!

That said, there were some moments.  First, our notoriously over-zealous town police did their best Barney Fife impression.  They tailed my son’s Camry (out-of-state plates!) from the front of our house to the neighborhood park — a half-block away — minutes before the ceremony was about to start.  When my son turned into the parking area, the cops pulled in behind him and flipped on their flashing lights.  Seems they didn’t like the way my son backed up when he was getting his car turned around.  No ticket — just a warning.  Maybe they were gunning for an invitation.

Soon after the ceremony, the caterer arrived, as did the aforementioned storm.  The food was protected by foil covers but the burners were waterlogged.  We all pretended that the eggplant parmigiana was nice and warm and no one complained.  The spirits flowed and the music played  and many danced.  For our dance, my daughter had chosen the song “Not Alone Any More” by The Traveling Wilburys.  It had been a while since I danced up-tempo for 3:24 but I managed!

Later, the bride and groom decided to have an after-party at a nearby tavern (The Thirsty Monk in Woodfin) so that their friends would not have far to drive.  But when my son walked up to the bar to order drinks for his wife and himself, the bartender refused to serve him, claiming that my son was slurring his words and already had enough.  I walked in as this was taking place, saw what was going on and couldn’t believe it.  I told the bartender that neither my son or I had been drinking a lot, and if he didn’t want to serve my son, then I guess he didn’t want to serve me either.  “Have it your way,” the bartender said as he turned away.

We figured that the bartender was more interested in closing up and going home than keeping the place open for a wedding party.  So we obliged him by moving the after-party back to our house.  That was my first visit to The Thirsty Monk and it will be my last.

Back at the ranch, the celebration continued.  A houseplant was accidentally knocked over, a dinner plate was broken, someone got sick at the kitchen table and the soap dish in our powder room disappeared.  All little stuff in the big scheme.  Of most importance, and what I will remember most from this day, the day after the Supreme Court decided that all couples may enjoy the privileges of marriage, was witnessing the start of a joyous and happy one.