Captain's Log # 64 - The Wedding
Formal Wedding Invitation
We have been invited to Kevin's brother's son's daughter's son's wedding. Very lovely invitation, professional photograph, gold-embossed on sage-green, thick and fuzzy cardstock.
There was a URL for wedding information, but the registry link didn't work. And there were instructions: cocktail dress (what?!), and don't wear white, cream, blush or sage (are you kidding me? telling me what to wear?!).
On Monday Kevin reminded me that the event is this Saturday. Today, Friday, I dug through my closest to see if I had anything "cocktailly" and found a loose, calf-length knit dress in - you guessed it: sage. Boy, that set me off on my congenital "you can't tell ME what to do!" rant. I'm going to wear it anyway. Maybe I'll apologize to the mother of the bride and make her feel guilty for being so controlling but heck, she's paying for this over-the-top event, she can request what she wants. To me it's a free meal and maybe some dancing and get to see most of Kevin's (large) family Every time we go to one of their events I quiz him on the names of everyone, 20+ people. The bride's mother is going to be alarmed at the near slobs we all are. Cocktail dress indeed.
The wedding was very nice, albeit quite warm at 82 degrees in the shade. It was the bride who stipulated the 'cocktail' nature of the event - and a good thing, too. Most of the groom's friends were baseball players and his young cop co-workers, god knows what they would have worn without instruction.
*The bride led the groom in the first dance.* He's going to be civilized and seems to be willing. The father of the bride is a plumber and the mother, an unassuming wife of a plumber. The guests were well attired. Some of the young women wore their artful tattoos draped over their shoulders with their skimpy dresses. Interesting. Quite the fashion statement. Some women should not wear diagonally-cut, sun-yellow satin wrapped over their substantially plump bodies. Unless men like that.
The wedding party (the couple, bridesmaids and groomsmen) sat at the head table on a dais, the women on one side, the men on the other. The best man, the groom's best friend, a funny, outgoing and handsome young man, had the right idea: he made a point to go to each bridesmaid, introduce himself, and shake their hands. Then in his speech announced that he was single. He's going to get laid tonight. That's the point of weddings: they are tribal consolidations, and fertility rites.
A tribal event. Pretty young women in scarf-like dresses, little flower girls in long, white dresses with baskets of rose petals.
A swarm of photographers in black, like flies, snapping and clacking away. A longtime school friend, who became a minister just for this event and to later officiate at the weddings of the bridesmaids and groomsmen, giving a heartfelt and original vow. The couple met in high school sports, she declined a first date to a Fetty Wap concert. Groomsmen in well-cut, sweaty black suits. (I commend them for keeping their coats on in the sun while I cowered in the shade.)
The young friend minister extolling Commitment and to be hard working for each other. “They are both hard-wired to work together as a team: they are dedicated to this union under the same (sports) flag.” The universe is unfolding as it should. “Marriage, you’re in it together, with a trusted partner by your side providing a solid foundation.” “Do you promise to take care of each other?” A story from the bride about the rings, “2024, add the numbers together and get 8, on its side, two rings together.”
5:15 hors d'oeuvres, dinner at 6? I’m starved. A taco buffet and me in my cocktail dress? This will be interesting. My feet are killing me! And these are my comfortable flats. I wasn’t the only one, later a bridesmaid came by in hiking boots, “These are so comfortable!” This was the first time I ate a taco with a knife and fork.
There are no dancers in this crowd. The DJ’s music is cool country, like in Yellowstone. I think I spot a moving woman at the next table; I’ll ask her to dance later. I remember my nephew’s wedding at a large swanky golf course. There must have been 500 people in the room. I was at one corner caring for my mother, my son was at the far diagonal. He and I were the only people moving enthusiastically.
Awaiting the entrance of the wedding party who will be sitting at the head table like royalty. The bridesmaids' procession in their silky-sage raiment, like priestesses. Followed by the groomsmen who enter to a bass drum somewhat rowdy, raucous. They could have done a Māori Haka.
The father of the bride with a tearful, “You captured my daughter’s heart, take care of it.”
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Here are some favorites:
#48 - The Embrace
#47 - Catering to the Clientele
#46 - Virgin Bride or Arranged Marriage?
#28 - The Old Boyfriend
#24 - January Heatwave
#18 - 1 Corinthians 13:13 - the greatest of these is Love
#15 - Shave?
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