A Wedding (e)Vent.
By Rob Bloom
As published in Flagpole Magazine
Boy meets girl. Boy and girl fall in love. Boy and girl move in together. Boy learns to put down the toilet seat. Girl watches endless marathons of TLC schmaltzy wedding programming, all the while wondering when her boyfriend will pop the question. Unable to remain stagnant any longer, the boy goes to a jewelry store and freaks out as the clerk babbles on about something called the Four Cs. Boy proposes to girl. Girl says yes.
As a recently married man, I hereby extend the following advice to those entering the tedious world of wedding planning. Please read the next line very carefully.
E-L-O-P-E.
Elope. Elope. Elope.
Forget the wedding planner. Eliminate discussions about invitation color and texture. Spare yourself from deciding whether or not Uncle Morty with the bad toupee should sit next to Cousin Gertie with the painted-on eyebrows. Just elope.
A long time ago in a galaxy not-so-far away, I proposed to my girlfriend. She said yes. Approximately 4.9 seconds later, the havoc began. It all started with a simple telephone call to our families to share the wonderful news.
"When is the wedding going to be?"
"Uh, we don't know yet. We just got engaged a few seconds ago."
"Have you picked a place yet?"
"No, we just got engaged."
"You haven't picked a place yet?"
"No. We just got engaged!
"Places book up twelve years in advance!"
"Don't worry, we'll find someplace."
"Someplace! Someplace! Listen to you. You sound like a crazy person. I suppose you'll get married on the street corner, in front of a frankfurter cart. You can't just get married someplace!"
"Okay, well we have a lot of calls to make, so we better go now.
"Where are you registered?"
Click.
And thus the craziness begins. One reoccurring theme throughout this process was our family members proclaiming they would do whatever we wanted because this was, after all, our wedding. Generous and accommodating, right? Wrong.
We quickly learned that "whatever we wanted" really meant "we'll tell you the way we want to do it and then haggle and wear you down until you give in to us." Meetings no less intense than the Iran-Contra Hearings were held to discuss the color of the bridesmaids' dresses.
"This color makes me look too short." "This color makes me look too tall." "This color makes my hips protrude." "This color makes my belly button look fat."
A friend of mine recently returned from her destination wedding in Hawaii. While watching her wedding video, I couldn't help but feel a little jealous. The ceremony consisted of her and her man standing side-by-side on gorgeous white sand while the officiant tried to talk over the noise of crashing waves. No florist. No DJ. No caterer charging $8.00 to cut a slice of wedding cake. It was just a simple wedding that symbolized a couple's love for one another and signaled the start of their new life together.
As our planning waged on, I often wondered if we made the right decision in having a big wedding. After all, a year of negotiations about the size of the ring pillow had, at times, turned the focus of this process to a show, rather than a marriage. Nevertheless, our big wedding has come and gone and Im proud to say that my wife and I are more in love than ever. In fact, experiencing this mess together made us a stronger unit. We learned how to negotiate with one another, speak up for what is truly important to us and let the other details go and present a united front to both our families.
With the wedding behind us, I can honestly say that I dont remember what the chair covers looked like or what shade of European Lavender the napkin holders were. What I do remember is standing before a crowd of family and friends and proclaiming my love for my wife. And that memory is strong enough to take away even the biggest of wedding planning headaches.
...but I still say, "elope."
© 2004 robbloom.com.
By Rob Bloom
As published in Flagpole Magazine
Boy meets girl. Boy and girl fall in love. Boy and girl move in together. Boy learns to put down the toilet seat. Girl watches endless marathons of TLC schmaltzy wedding programming, all the while wondering when her boyfriend will pop the question. Unable to remain stagnant any longer, the boy goes to a jewelry store and freaks out as the clerk babbles on about something called the Four Cs. Boy proposes to girl. Girl says yes.
As a recently married man, I hereby extend the following advice to those entering the tedious world of wedding planning. Please read the next line very carefully.
E-L-O-P-E.
Elope. Elope. Elope.
Forget the wedding planner. Eliminate discussions about invitation color and texture. Spare yourself from deciding whether or not Uncle Morty with the bad toupee should sit next to Cousin Gertie with the painted-on eyebrows. Just elope.
A long time ago in a galaxy not-so-far away, I proposed to my girlfriend. She said yes. Approximately 4.9 seconds later, the havoc began. It all started with a simple telephone call to our families to share the wonderful news.
"When is the wedding going to be?"
"Uh, we don't know yet. We just got engaged a few seconds ago."
"Have you picked a place yet?"
"No, we just got engaged."
"You haven't picked a place yet?"
"No. We just got engaged!
"Places book up twelve years in advance!"
"Don't worry, we'll find someplace."
"Someplace! Someplace! Listen to you. You sound like a crazy person. I suppose you'll get married on the street corner, in front of a frankfurter cart. You can't just get married someplace!"
"Okay, well we have a lot of calls to make, so we better go now.
"Where are you registered?"
Click.
And thus the craziness begins. One reoccurring theme throughout this process was our family members proclaiming they would do whatever we wanted because this was, after all, our wedding. Generous and accommodating, right? Wrong.
We quickly learned that "whatever we wanted" really meant "we'll tell you the way we want to do it and then haggle and wear you down until you give in to us." Meetings no less intense than the Iran-Contra Hearings were held to discuss the color of the bridesmaids' dresses.
"This color makes me look too short." "This color makes me look too tall." "This color makes my hips protrude." "This color makes my belly button look fat."
A friend of mine recently returned from her destination wedding in Hawaii. While watching her wedding video, I couldn't help but feel a little jealous. The ceremony consisted of her and her man standing side-by-side on gorgeous white sand while the officiant tried to talk over the noise of crashing waves. No florist. No DJ. No caterer charging $8.00 to cut a slice of wedding cake. It was just a simple wedding that symbolized a couple's love for one another and signaled the start of their new life together.
As our planning waged on, I often wondered if we made the right decision in having a big wedding. After all, a year of negotiations about the size of the ring pillow had, at times, turned the focus of this process to a show, rather than a marriage. Nevertheless, our big wedding has come and gone and Im proud to say that my wife and I are more in love than ever. In fact, experiencing this mess together made us a stronger unit. We learned how to negotiate with one another, speak up for what is truly important to us and let the other details go and present a united front to both our families.
With the wedding behind us, I can honestly say that I dont remember what the chair covers looked like or what shade of European Lavender the napkin holders were. What I do remember is standing before a crowd of family and friends and proclaiming my love for my wife. And that memory is strong enough to take away even the biggest of wedding planning headaches.
...but I still say, "elope."
© 2004 robbloom.com.
