The Big Day

My sister recently attended a wedding reception for a neighbor that can only be described as a bit different from those I that normally attend. For starters, my sister has lived near the couple for many years, and until she received the invitation, didn’t realize that they weren’t already married.

The tone for the reception was established as soon as she entered the Moose Lodge. While a carefully crafted archway over the entrance can hardly be considered innovative, constructing one from empty Budweiser beer cans is an approach I was unfamiliar with. I can only guess that such a welcome of stale smelling cans becomes a reasonable alternative only after the wedding party has consumed the requisite amount of beer to generate the required building blocks. At that point, a lot of things suddenly become good ideas.

Once through festive archway, the theme of the wedding became abundantly clear. The happy couple had settled on camouflage for the color theme. Even the blushing bride had camouflage finger nail polish and elbow pads. The bridesmaids were featured in white tops and camouflage skirts and the groomsmen - well it was too late by the time she arrived to catch them in full attire - were at the bar still wearing tuxes, however, had shed their shirts and were bare chested.

Before anyone begins to categorize our newlyweds as being on the less cultured side of the bell curve, I would ask that you visualize the final scene in our story. Well into the reception the bride, who had been absent for a prolonged period, happily entered through the back door with a fork in one had, an oven mitt on the other, and with a big smile thanked everyone for their patience and announced that the pork was almost done. To be sure, the bride preparing her own food at the reception while still wearing her wedding dress won’t suddenly propel one into the social elite; however, I would ask you to note the most important part of our story - she was smiling. Her reception was everything that she wanted it to be, and was thrilled with the outcome.

Consider that while recalling all of the over-orchestrated insufferably boring weddings and receptions that we have all been sentenced to endure. The father of the bride stands in the corner throwing back drinks while suffering chest pains as he doubts if the marriage will last longer than the payments on the second mortgage that was required to fund the spectacle. The bride, who has spent the last month making life a living hell for everyone around her as she juggled the hundreds essential details required for the day of her dreams, has spent the day vacillating between tears and anger as she faced such unforgivable catastrophes as runners that wouldn’t lay flat, pink flowers that were clearly mauve and champaign bottles not properly centered on the tables. Cultured? Yes. Fun? No.

For me, I can only hope that one day I am fortunate enough to arrive at a reception hall and be greeted by a Budweiser arch. As for those of you still to plan your big day, go for the day that leaves you with the same smile as our bride.

Thanks for stopping by - I’ll keep my eyes open for more people Hunting Squirrels with Bazookas.

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