Dunno what it is, but there's just something that weddings do to families to crank the emotions right up to collective hysteria. My normally rational folks engaged in what vitually amounted to emotional blackmail for seemingly trivial issues. My sympathies...

As for directions, just put a homing device in your dad's car and have it emit gentle, encouraging sounds like "You're getting warmer... warmer..." as he nears Ste. Helen's island. A sort of Dina and Steve Satellite Tracking System that doubles as Dad-soother.

I really have to check out Junkyard Wars now. It's my dad's fave show!