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Monday, June 16, 2008

Here Comes the Bride

I don’t like weddings. I think they’re overblown, over-rated, and have lost their meaning amidst all the pomp and over-spending and debt that people endure in order to make their wedding day absolutely perfect.

Confession: I get a thrill out of bridezillas. I love watching those reality shows about the out-of-control brides who, in their quest for the fairy tale wedding, become the biggest bitches of all time. They’re funnier than anything at the cineplex.

Why oh why does a bride need a dozen bridesmaids?

Why oh why do people think it’s cute when little children are ring bearers and flower girls?

Why oh why do people insist on having silly pop songs played at their ceremonies? (“Endless Love,” Wind Beneath My Wings,” “I Finally Found Someone,” “We’ve Only Just Begun,” and the list goes on... and on... and on.)

If white symbolizes virginity then are all these brides really virgins? I think not.


Years ago I went to a wedding where the Bride and Groom arrived on a yacht. The guests gathered on the pier as the ship came in. It was like that scene from “Titanic.” I thought it was very funny, though I seemed to be in the minority. The other guests were crying tears of joy.

Their arrival was only the beginning of a wedding to top all weddings. There were two bands, ice sculptures, a cocktail hour with a food buffet that could feed a small nation, a multi-course dinner that can only be described as a food orgy, a dessert extravaganza that satisfied even the fussiest sweet tooth, and gifts for the guests.

My date and I felt like we had been to the carnival. We came home with desserts, a bottle of whiskey (for the men) and a plastic flower arrangement (for the women).

What happened to that happy couple after they vowed “till death do us part”? She desperately wanted to have a baby; he refused. She was the perfect wife, always there to take care of her man. He ended up having numerous “not-so-discreet” affairs (and a child with one of his girlfriends). After years of a miserable marriage she finally came to her senses and divorced the lying cheater. Not a happy ending.

Aah, but their wedding was a hoot.

I wonder what they think about when they’re both home alone on a Saturday night drinking a little too much wine and getting sentimental. Do they look at their wedding pictures, if they still have them, and smile or do they cringe at the cruel joke their wedding turned out to be?

Why am I talking about weddings? I have one to go to this weekend.

I’m hoping this one has a happy ending, and an open bar.

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