Get The Wed Out: Part Three

For the last couple of days, I've taken it upon myself to report on a wedding I recently attended. Where I left off, I had arrived probably too early at the place where the wedding would take place, and we were getting all the little last-minute things done. I ought to say something about the location. Built in 1923, it originally was the home of a most distinguished poet who had in fact been the laureate of California. It was a lovely spot up high on a hill, and offered a great view. The building was loaded with history and character, offering what seemed to me an ideal place to be married.

Eventually, all the lights, tables, chairs, food and people were in the right place. I had done my fair share even when I feared the despoiling of my precious suit. Guests were now beginning to show up, and I was faced by the need to discharge my actual formally-codified duties as an usher. It really is against my nature to act in such capacity. I disdain confrontation and organization. I lack the kind of self-assured assertiveness and problem-solving that takes groups of different sizes and plugs them into openings in the seating arrangement in the most efficient manner possible. Believe it or not, I'm shy enough that merely advising people as to where the bride's side and groom's side were. In spite of my shortcomings, though, I managed all right.

The ceremony was wonderful. This marks only the second wedding I've attended since I was old enough to remember, so the feeling of being there and seeing what was to be seen was fresh to me. Even knowing how it was to happen, it was a transfixing sight to see such earnest and naked display of emotion. We are in this day and age so consumed by irony, self-awareness and cynicism that it seems to happen very little that our expression of feelings is so unfiltered, but there it was. It was striking how quickly it happened. Perhaps that's how it is when there are no dramatic interruptions of the ceremony in the name of forestalling tragedy. So ended the formal component of things.

The now-married couple decamped into a limousine for a private drive, only to return a short time later. The rest of us enjoyed a snack and some conversation in anticipation of their return and the commencement of the dancing. I personally expended considerable energy while engaged in the latter activity. Just when one would hope to take a rest, on would come a song which absolutely compelled you to dance some more. Of course, I call what I did dancing, although I don't imagine anything of the kind is taught in schools or put into practice by anyone except myself. It was good fun in any case, and there was much encouragement. Interrupting the dancing was dinner, which was quite delicious. I had more than my fair share, I won't deny that. Perhaps it was that which slowed me down when the dancing resumed. Thankfully, cupcakes provided a boost.

As people offered their congratulations and said their goodbyes, the evening slowed down. Eventually, the time came for the couple to exit for good. Naturally, they could not be permitted to leave before their car was defiled by cans, balloons and shaving cream pronouncing their new status. A gauntlet of well-wishers was formed, through which the couple had to pass before even reaching the car. Off they drove eventually, leaving the remnants of the wedding party to clean up. I myself was among the last three people there. We three hopeless cases talked for a while, eventually heading home from the social event of the year. I can only hope for one like it when my time comes.