Thursday, June 19, 2008

Wedding Crashes

No, the missing R is not a typo. Keep reading.

My wedding was almost 23 years ago (June 29, 1985, to be exact) and yet, of course there are parts of it I remember like it was yesterday.

I was 22, and so was the groom. I'd just graduated college, he was still figuring out where and what he wanted to be. My parents covered most of the cost without a quibble, and it was a nice, middle-of-the-road, working-class wedding. My dress cost a few hundred, but not a few thousand dollars. The reception was at the local American Legion hall with a buffet of fried chicken, mostacolli, and...ham..I think. The usual. The bar was included, but I remember it being hours into the reception before I managed to pause and get a drink--7-up because I was so thirstry from talking to everyone. The music was a disaster. Glenn's brother was supposed to bring the records for the dj to use (a college friend using Glenn's equipment)--and he forgot. So we basically had a few country ones I'd brought, the red and blue Beatles collections, and whatever cassette tapes people had in their cars. After the first half hour we all quit noticing.

My maid of honor hooked up with Glenn's best man (his brother and my best friend from high school) they were married a year later and are still together today. At their wedding another couple hooked up--and they're still together too. I'm not sure, but I think the chain continued from there. Weddings are nothing if not contagious. Another pair emerged from our wedding party--my cousin and Glenn's best friend. That one didn't last, much to my dismay. But as that friend eventually married one of my critique partners instead, I've forgiven him . (wink and a grin)

One of my big problems is that I tend to giggle at weddings. Truthfully, though I believe in the seriousness of marriage, I've never been very good at taking ANYTHING in life too seriously. Life is funny. Better to laugh than cry, right? So when one of my bridesmaids started sobbling LOUDLY, I was in trouble. Unfortunately we were lined up so I had a perfect line of eye contact with the groomsmen. And these were all my D & D buddies--my friends as well as Glenn's. This was bad. Three ushers and the bride up there on the stage trying desperately not to laugh.

And the piece-de-resistance? Glenn and I are both noted for being a bit--irreverent--at best. So imagine this sequence: my father gives me away and takes his seat. I take the groom's hand. Together, we take that first step onto the stage....

KA-BOOM!

The single clap of thunder that was heard all day went off.

Seriously.

Our friends demanded to know how we arranged this.

I thought the minister was going to wet his pants.

Fortunately, he collected himself enough to marry us anyway, and after 23 years, I'd have to say it took. Can't imagine being with anyone else. And I REALLY can't imagine the nightmare of having to DATE again at my age. Besides, no one else would know all the inside jokes.

7 comments:

  1. What a great wedding story, Cindy. Fantastic post as usual. I'm glad to hear the thunder wasn't a portent of bad things to come. :D

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  2. "Besides, no one else would know all the inside jokes."

    Best line ever sweetie. I feel exactly the same way about Mr. Rebel. We have been together for so long that we have our own language and as I would NEVER teach it to anyone else, and I don't want to learn a new one, he is stuck with me forever and ever.

    Great story.

    XoXoXo
    Dakota

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  3. SNORT. SNICKER. Okay. Tears are rolling here. This is a hoot. What a memorable wedding and I'm with James. So glad the clap of thunder wasn't a bad omen. LOL.

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  4. Heh.heh. I LOVE it. Best wedding story ever. Happy almost anniversary!

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  5. Hey Anny, if that were a Valley book, the clap of thunder would initiate pregnancies all over the valley. Um, Cindy girl, you had to do it with flare didn't you? LOL.

    I wonder that the minister didn't worry he was marrying you against God's plan with all the heavenly chaos. I'll just bet he was shaking in his boots. Ha!

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  6. I haven't posted comments for some time but I read all your wedding stories and enjoyed them. Mine was a small wedding in a small Greek Church, with less than fifty guests, all family members. But we had three priests, one of them my mother's cousin, and a bishop who owed my father a favor and repaid him by performing his daughter's wedding. The reception was even smaller at my grandparent's apartment, a three story cake, gift from a guest and sanwiches. My friends were not allowed. Not enough space. I hated my dress. My mother chose the model and I was not allowed to give my opinion. No music but we sang and joked. I was happy to be married and it's all that counted. And we still are after many many years.

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  7. My experience was, that your own wedding bores you to almost death. In India,the bride is not allowed to move from her chair, & keep staring at the floor with the most serious expression on her face. She is not supposed to talk much either... & they all forget that she needs to eat too!
    & she is supposed to wear red garments too!!

    I love the idea if hooking up chain!

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