Chelsea and Me
Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" Today some stranger sent me an email that said, "You are a nut case." Well, I must admit this never would have occurred to me. Everyone else is a nut case. I'm the sane one. I think.
With a Lughnasadh observance and a little prayer to Faerie Aine in between, I will now continue to explore the pitfalls of lavish and expensive weddings. Frankly I'm superstitious about them. I've seen many that have crashed and burnt, a few more where that day was the highlight of a long and soggy marriage, and a few that have gone awry due to participant intake of alcoholic concoctions.
It's not fair to disrespect big weddings in a vacuum, though. What if I, Anne Johnson, had a largish, expensive, scrupulously-planned nuptial? Then I would be a hypocrite.
I'm not a hypocrite. Let me, in a nutshell, describe the Johnson marriage ceremony.
Mr. Johnson and I had been living together, on and off, for about four years before we tied the knot. I therefore felt it bad form to plan and execute a lavish wedding. I know, I know. How 20th century of me! Besides, my dad was a school teacher in Appalachia, earning something like $35,000 a year at the time. I had paid my way through college, and I wanted to keep the independent streak going.
Quick Facts about Anne's Wedding
1. Contacted minister on Tuesday, scheduled wedding for Thursday ... but only after minister cleared it with Anne's notoriously temperamental mom.
2. Went through wardrobe, found white skirt and top. No white shoes. Wore brown ones.
3. Applied for marriage license in home town. Picked it up the next day. Ordered a corsage from a local flower shop.
4. Loaned my sister a dress that sort of matched mine.
5. Made a luncheon reservation at hometown's upscale-but-not-at-the-top eatery.
6. A few phone calls, inviting family and arranging carpools.
1. Held in small chapel of one of the smallest country churches in the county. No video. No professional photos. No music. No sermon. No scripture. No fancy personalized vows. No tears.
2. Fourteen guests, plus pastor makes 15 in attendance.
1. Fourteen hosted for lunch at the eatery. No booze. (I let Dad foot the bill for this. It was less than $150 with tip. He was pleased.)
2. About 60 hosted at the home of Mr. Johnson's mother a few days later. She made all the food. We reimbursed her for costs, using money our family members had given us in congratulations cards.
You would think, wouldn't you, that many a trailer park gunshot wedding has more flair than this. True, very true. But this little teeny tiny wedding has stuck for a quarter century.
I'm superstitious about big weddings. If you had one, and it was fun and the beginning of a great life filled with love and happiness, please challenge my superstition. But do me one favor. Wait a few years, until my daughters are married, before you sing the praises of a high-ticket nuptial!