You have to love Seattle. Some parts of it have never moved on beyond the hippy era, including all of Fremont, parts of Capital Hill and definitely Baylonia.
No, that’s not an unknown neighborhood tucked away in the corners somewhere. It’s a woman. A pretty audacious one at that.
You see, Baylonia Aivaz, a young waif of a woman, married a 107 year old this week. Talk about your May to December weddings, this one is certainly one for the record books.
While the bride looked beautiful in her wedding dress, the bridegroom was definitely showing his age. His face was cracked, his exterior colorless, even gaunt, and he had definitely seen better years.
Oh, I should correct myself, Baylonia’s significant other was a woman, not a man. Forgive me for overlooking this. It’s just really hard to tell sometimes what sex a building is.
Yes, I said building. Baylonia, part of the Occupy Seattle movement, married a building last Sunday.
See the happy bride in the photo. The ukulele player isn’t the groom, he’s the entertainment. He did a rousing rendition of Lean on Me for the happy couple, which describes the groom behind them perfectly as it’s listing dangerously off kilter now.
I guess I would be too if I was 107 years old. Why would Baylonia do such a wild thing? Is there really a future with a building?
While we could all argue that at least the marriage would be on a solid foundation and that Baylonia would never have to worry again about whether or not she would have a roof over her head, thanks to her significant other, one wonders what she was smoking from the wedding hookah.
As with all whacked out ideas in the fringe society that constantly orbits around Seattle’s more normal citizenry, the wedding was a great publicity stunt by Occupy Seattle. You see, Baylonia’s significant other is in hospice right now, waiting for the Grim Reaper to come calling with its legion of wrecking balls and bulldozers.
This, of course, will doom the marriage. Baylonia will never be able to leave the door open to improving the relationship. She’ll never experience the serenity of knowing where her spouse was every night. She will never be able to enjoy having a spouse who was not just a pillar in the community, but several hundred pillars. And, dare I say, she’ll never know what its like to touch 107 year old wood on the wedding night.
Baylonia maintains that this is all on the up and up. She said that since corporations are considered individuals, she should rightfully be able to marry the building, though it is uncertain if a building can indeed enjoy corporate status, even if it once housed a corporation.
As with all newly married wives, Baylonia was already making plans to change her new spouse. She wanted him, uhh her, to become a community center instead of nobly making way for a new apartment complex. The new bride said, and I quote, “I’m doing this to show the building how much I love it, how much I love community space and how much I love this neighborhood. And I want to stop it from gentrification.”
Instead, she wanted to indulge in geriatrification, entering into a May to December relationship that not only redefines who makes a suitable spouse, but whether it’s OK to marry inanimate objects.
I think I would have to draw a line here. I think it could open a whole can of worms in our society, leading to a break down in civilization where people are marrying their cars, their iMacs and their Cuisinarts. The entire fabric of society would come crashing to the ground if we let Baylonia have her way with that building.
If you’re wandering about this issue, Baylonia didn’t wait for her wedding night to intimately explore her spouse. She opened that door earlier. I’ll let her explain her tryst with a 107 year old in her own words: “We explored 36,000 square feet like children, giggling and dreaming at the possibility of all that space. We played with conveyer belts, riding up and down. The kind you always want to sit on in the airport luggage dispensers. We strung up lights…. We removed pounds and pounds of unnecessary building materials…. We dreamed.”
And we obviously hookahed some more. Baylonia dear, in the real world we call your wedding frolic trespassing. I hate to break it to you love, but your spouse has another. Someone owns it. They are the ones putting your spouse out of its misery. They are a corporation, perhaps an evil one, but with rights you can never enjoy as a listless, lifeless, whacked out hippy chick who desperately wishes she could have been born in the sixties so she could trip out on psychedelics in Haight-Ashbury and sing Kumbaya with all her other toked out friends.
And, Baylonia, I would expect that you know that gay marriage is still illegal in Washington State as of this writing. So, you not only trespassed, but your marriage is null and void, if for no other reason that a ukulele player should never be allowed to marry anyone – it’s just not right!
Now that your spouse is about to put out of her misery, I would suggest you find someone your own age so you can move on in your life. Perhaps a fetching Yurt in Centralia. I’m sure you’ll both be happy.
Out in the Emerald City, casting a lustful eye at that lovely Craftsman across the street,
– Robb