Wedding Commentary

As far as skeptics go, yours truly would be considered a skeptard. Look, I was married for 13 years. Most of those years were wonderful. We had sex pretty often, too. As I attended a recent wedding ceremony amongst a crowd of pissy-eyed ladies, I struggled to keep from blurting “Ha!”

I’m a horrible person, doomed to die alone.

Seriously, this is an ancient custom, right? The speech around how the ring symbolizes marriage because there is no beginning and no end is nonsensical. There certainly is a beginning. Once signatures hit the marriage license, it’s on, motherfuckers. Ends? A realm of inevitable destinations, including divorce and death. I say replace the wedding ring with a horseshoe nipple ring. There’s definitely a beginning and end, with an unforeseen middle.

The bride and groom wrote their vows. I can’t remember if my ex and I did that. Probably. There’s a template that is followed for these:

  1. State how your life sucked before him/her. It didn’t. You simply have not bungled this relationship beyond repair, yet.
  2. Talk about how he/she came into your life. If you claim your god did this, I will smite thee. Your imaginary friend had some extra time between plagues and decided to arrange and watch a little human porn? How cute.
  3. Proclaim how this person is your end. Basically, you’re promising to never mix with another tab A or slot B, no matter how much alcohol is involved. This is silly.
  4. Say, “I do,” and hope the strength in numbers thing applies to your marriage and not the number of divorce lawyers needed to resolve the mess you’re going to make.

All right. All right. Calm down. A little skepticism is good for you. Judge me to be a godless, loveless asshole. Nailed it.

The party afterward is nice. See? I’m not all Donnie Downer. Think of all the fixin’s. You can play fun games like:

  • Which fork do I use for this?
  • Can you pass the butter balls? Heh, heh. I said “balls.”
  • This champagne tastes like Coors Light without the taste. More like Macadam Light.
  • Fuck, I dropped my napkin again. Oh, well. I’ll use the tablecloth.
  • What’s in the candy tin? Ooh, pink chocolate baby nipples.

Then there’s dancing. I noticed how “The Alley Cat” and “Hokey Pokey” have morphed into “The Cupid Shuffle” and “Stanky Leg.” Lovely. The father/daughter dance is always a bit creepy. Why’s Dad so emotional? If he’s happy, is it because he can finally get her off his auto insurance? If he’s sad, is it because she’s marrying someone just like him, which means he’d better keep his little girl’s room ready?

You wanna know a memorable thing about my wedding? My wife passed out. Yup. I was more of a gentleman then. I caught her and set her down lightly without pointing and laughing. She was only out for a few seconds. I’m confident it was her immune system giving her “what the fuck did you just do” allergic reaction to committing herself to such a sarcastic prick, who hates camping and loves Monty Python.

Anyway, yes, the wedding was nice. Sure beats a funeral. I mean, there are no chocolate baby nipples at funerals.

Christmas Proposal

proposalA boyfriend-ed girlfriend of mine seemed nervous discussing the coming holiday.

“Think he’s going to be on bended knee in front of thee?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I thought he might propose a few weeks ago for my birthday. I guess when the time is right, he’ll do it.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Will you say yes?”

“Sure. Wow, then the pressure’s on.”

“Pressure?”

“Yes. Then, I’m going to get married.” (Followed by noticeable fidgeting.)

“Don’t worry, my dear. Everyone needs a marriage or two to figure it out. Might as well get the starter out of the way.”

“You’re so cynical.”

“Right?”

“Well, I’m hoping this is the first and last wedding for me.”

“It can happen. The plane could crash on the way to your honeymoon.”

“…”

“More cynicism. I apologize, and allow me to express my congratulations for your pending nuptials.”

“Thank you, I think.”

I have other thoughts about Christmas proposals:

  • I get the feeling it’s a bit cheap of a man to propose on Christmas, Valentines Day, or birthdays. It seems he’s skating on a present. Legally, though, he should be aware that a ring presented on such a day can be logically interpreted as a gift, therefore, if the commitment implodes (like many do), she’ll have a good case to keep the gift. And, much chagrin will be had by him.
  • It’s a bit showy for my tastes. I realize women in the vicinity will well up, but men (especially the ones with attached women sans rings) will feel added pressure to take the plunge.
  • I’d like to own a jewelry store one month a year.
  • Wouldn’t it be wiser to hand her an x-thousand-dollar gift card, and have her pick out one she actually wants? Sure, each woman I speak to insists there’s special meaning in something he picks out specifically for her. Yet, she must admit it is more likely the person behind the counter is weighing in considerably, without knowing squat-ola about her.
  • With the high quality of manufactured diamonds today, wouldn’t it be wise (and cool) to purchase five different rings with distinct settings? It would be less stressful for both parties, as a lost ring would be an oh-well.

If you’re expecting to be staring down at a quivering mass of masculinity this Christmas, fret not and take my words with grains of hops. It’s basically a 50-50 shot, sort of like playing roulette. Go for it. Practice flitting your fingers toward your gushing girlies, and go shopping for gowns. Try not to think about all the money you’ll spend on the ceremony; it will hurt your brain. Just look forward to a few months of hyper-sex … until you get pregnant. That’s another perilous journey.

Honeymooners

As I wade and drink margaritas on my Mexican vacation, I notice numerous sparkles from the fingers and eyes of newlyweds. Meeting me and hearing what I do is likely cause for consternation.

“Ah, I kid. It’s all fiction, you know?”
“But, it’s based in reality.”
“Perhaps.”
“So, what advice would you give newlyweds?”
“Enjoy it while it lasts.”
“What?”
“Hate it while it lasts?”
“It’s supposed to last forever, isn’t it?”
“I’m a statistics man and the odds are it won’t.”
“Jesus.”
“Well, you asked. Look, my point is that you two should enjoy the heck out of what you have right now without worrying about what’s coming. Like this honeymoon (Ha, I just typo’d hineymoon … I’m such a hiney.), you know you can’t spend the rest of your lives here at this magnificent pool bar, so enjoy it now and avoid thinking about what’s next.”

The couples are cute reminders of a fun time for me over 20 years ago. The brides all have odd looks on their faces–a combination of relief and confusion. They buried themselves in wedding planning for a year or so and in a flash it’s over. Now what? All that remains of the special day are thank-you notes and re-gifting. Some begin considering parenthood as the next destination. Again, I remind them to concentrate on the trip, not the destination. In other words, “Fuck a lot, while you both still enjoy it. Leave the baby making to the storks.”

The grooms are definitely more chilled (until they check the bill). They have dessert, after dinner drinks, cigars, and post-pool quickies. It’s all good. Hm. The other brides around the pool are still distracting. Oh, well. This French one over here is topless. Her perfect Hershey’s kisses sit high up on her breasts, making her a delicious dessert–an expensive one, should he ever foolishly indulge. No, marriage hasn’t taken away the instinct. That ring doesn’t cover his eyes. Yet, the cost of momentary weakness is staggering and he’s confident he can control himself. Good boy, for now.

Again, this is all sarcastic silliness with a dab of reality.

This much is true and I’ll testify to such on a stack of Oreos: Concentrate on growing your friendship, because if your marriage ends, the friendship will be the most wonderful thing you get to keep–not your children, not your pets, not your china, not your paycheck, not your memories. If you build that friendship into love, it can last much longer than the sexual fires you’ve stoked. You can love that person and forgive the way you would any close friend’s misdeeds. You can expose parts you’d be embarrassed to show others. You can be weak without fear of being judged.

Enjoy the honeymoon. Squeeze every drop from it. Play your role, but regularly remind your spouse of your admiration and appreciation. Commit to creating happiness in each moment. Your spouse is your best friend now. That friendship will get you both through the obstacle course you’ll face when the honeymoon ends.