I went to The Wedding yesterday, the one referred to on the current front page essay. For some reason, it wasn't nearly as bad as I expected, perhaps because I had the option of leaving at any time. Besides, the activities were a little more varied, and I had the option of moving amongst a larger group of people.
The ceremony was marred, unfortunately, by some painful music choices (e.g., "Friends are Friends Forever," the song that they always played on the last day of summer camp) and by entirely too many children in the church. There were about as many kids as adults there, and the one next to me played his Gameboy throughout the entire ceremony. I almost slapped him. I tried making some "Hey Shithead"-type grunts in his direction, but he was too absorbed in his Pokemon game. I was hoping his grandmother would pickup on my disdain, but she actually seemed to be encouraging him to play the damned thing.
Then again, it hardly seemed to bother anyone else, and it wasn't my wedding. I'm seriously considering banning small children at my ceremony, or distributing sedative-laced Kool-Aid beforehand. Hey, it worked for my mother...
I was actually the last one to arrive, just as The Bride was walking up the aisle. I left my house in plenty of time, but Mapquest gave me bad directions. A freeway divides the street that the church was on, and the directions put me on the wrong side of it. (Stoopid Internet.) On that side of the freeway, the address I was headed to appeared to be a long-abandoned cemetery, which freaked me out a tad. My friend wasn't that morbid, was he?
Following the ceremony, we were off to the American Legion Hall, which we completely and utterly failed to fill up. I don't know if they were expecting a much larger crowd, or the preparations committee went mad with power, but the place was only about half-full, which was fine, as it gave me an excuse to move around. They went through the usual wedding motions, the stuffing of the cake in the spouse's mouth, the dances, the cheap beer... For a veteran of incalculable nuptials, the process is starting to wear thin. The only real variety comes from the attendees and the DJ.
In this case, the DJ sucked eggs. This was somewhat the fault of the people making requests, but quite a few songs seemed to originate with her whim, and not all of them appropriate. YMCA, fine, if you must, but not the Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald...
But God help me, I did the Chicken Dance of my own free will.
The only available females left after the ceremony, much to my dismay. There was a beautiful young woman at the reception who I found out was the college-age younger sister of a girl I went to school with, but about midway through the conversation she revealed that she was a strict Southern Baptist, and that was that. I don't think they allow Southern Baptists to date Catholics, especially lapsed ones.
And then there was another former classmate, who used to date a close friend of mine in high school. He now refers to her as "The Troll." She has been divorced twice, has two children (one from each marriage), and keep in mind she's the same age as I am. And I got the distinct impression throughout the night that she was hitting on me.
Still, the prospect of not having to impress someone lifted some weight from my shoulders, and I did manage to have a good time, as well as a decent amount of beer. Still, when people started line dancing, I knew it was time to leave.
It was 9 o'clock on a Saturday night. I suddenly felt the need to salvage the evening, so I called up my former boss and we headed out to the Lumber Yard (note: probably not a good link if the boss is around) to try and make up for last week's non-Bachelor Party.
I'll just say that women love a man in a tie, and leave it at that.
Oh, and 20 bucks doesn't hurt either.
The ceremony was marred, unfortunately, by some painful music choices (e.g., "Friends are Friends Forever," the song that they always played on the last day of summer camp) and by entirely too many children in the church. There were about as many kids as adults there, and the one next to me played his Gameboy throughout the entire ceremony. I almost slapped him. I tried making some "Hey Shithead"-type grunts in his direction, but he was too absorbed in his Pokemon game. I was hoping his grandmother would pickup on my disdain, but she actually seemed to be encouraging him to play the damned thing.
Then again, it hardly seemed to bother anyone else, and it wasn't my wedding. I'm seriously considering banning small children at my ceremony, or distributing sedative-laced Kool-Aid beforehand. Hey, it worked for my mother...
I was actually the last one to arrive, just as The Bride was walking up the aisle. I left my house in plenty of time, but Mapquest gave me bad directions. A freeway divides the street that the church was on, and the directions put me on the wrong side of it. (Stoopid Internet.) On that side of the freeway, the address I was headed to appeared to be a long-abandoned cemetery, which freaked me out a tad. My friend wasn't that morbid, was he?
Following the ceremony, we were off to the American Legion Hall, which we completely and utterly failed to fill up. I don't know if they were expecting a much larger crowd, or the preparations committee went mad with power, but the place was only about half-full, which was fine, as it gave me an excuse to move around. They went through the usual wedding motions, the stuffing of the cake in the spouse's mouth, the dances, the cheap beer... For a veteran of incalculable nuptials, the process is starting to wear thin. The only real variety comes from the attendees and the DJ.
In this case, the DJ sucked eggs. This was somewhat the fault of the people making requests, but quite a few songs seemed to originate with her whim, and not all of them appropriate. YMCA, fine, if you must, but not the Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald...
But God help me, I did the Chicken Dance of my own free will.
The only available females left after the ceremony, much to my dismay. There was a beautiful young woman at the reception who I found out was the college-age younger sister of a girl I went to school with, but about midway through the conversation she revealed that she was a strict Southern Baptist, and that was that. I don't think they allow Southern Baptists to date Catholics, especially lapsed ones.
And then there was another former classmate, who used to date a close friend of mine in high school. He now refers to her as "The Troll." She has been divorced twice, has two children (one from each marriage), and keep in mind she's the same age as I am. And I got the distinct impression throughout the night that she was hitting on me.
Still, the prospect of not having to impress someone lifted some weight from my shoulders, and I did manage to have a good time, as well as a decent amount of beer. Still, when people started line dancing, I knew it was time to leave.
It was 9 o'clock on a Saturday night. I suddenly felt the need to salvage the evening, so I called up my former boss and we headed out to the Lumber Yard (note: probably not a good link if the boss is around) to try and make up for last week's non-Bachelor Party.
I'll just say that women love a man in a tie, and leave it at that.
Oh, and 20 bucks doesn't hurt either.
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