No, this is not about a new show streaming on television. Apparently “Wedding Season” is a thing – something I did not know existed until I looked up Wedding Season online. I looked it up to see what is the season most people get married. But I guess that doesn’t really matter either. It is certainly Wedding Season at my house because I am about ready to enter a stretch where I will have two children who will tie their respective spousal knots within three weeks of one another.
My own wedding anniversary is May 5th. I think late spring (May and June) used to be Peak Wedding Season, but I am not sure if that is true any more. One online source says that something like 80% of weddings occur between May and October. So I guess my children are getting in before Wedding Season is over for the year, if not by much. And my own would have been right at the start.
I guess I understand a Wedding Season – who wants to get married during an ice storm or during one of those horribly dreary days in mid February when you cannot imagine any joyous event happening anywhere. But I must acknowledge that many who marry do so in areas with climates far different than mine. Maybe that accounts for the other 20% of weddings, because I suppose February is a pleasant month in some places. I guess I just have not yet been to one of them.
May is usually pretty safe wedding weather in my area – except the time Marianne and I attended someone else’s wedding in May and the day was ice cold with blowing snow. Late September and (especially) mid-October have had the occasional stinker of a day, but hopefully the weather will cooperate for both events.
I have been blessedly out of the planning loop for these weddings. But then, I was blessedly out of the planning loop for my own, over thirty-two years ago. That didn’t really happen by plan, but it did happen. I recall being
shanghaied asked to accompany my bride to a meeting with a photographer. My head spun as the multiplicity of packages and options was lobed at me faster than my little head could make sense of it all. Once the shelling stopped, I recall walking to the car and saying “Anyone who can’t shoot a wedding in 24 pictures just isn’t trying.” I wasn’t completely serious, of course. It would probably take 36.
Marianne, however, was completely serious when she stopped inviting me along to other appointments as plans were made. Made by someone other than me, I should add. I am prepared to acknowledge that our wedding was probably much nicer than if I had been given the job of putting it all together. My tendencies towards minimalism and simplicity would likely have gotten things off to a bad start.
The main decisions are already made, of course. Those include who will be the spousal counterpart in each ceremony. We are both quite happy to have kept out of that decision because each kid has chosen a wonderful mate. We are delighted with both our new son-in-law and our new daughter-in-law. At least I think we are delighted – check back with me in ten or fifteen years. Which will be our favorite – now there is a position that has not yet been filled. We are open to some influence peddling here, but for now it is a tight race. I suppose it doesn’t have to actually be a race, because a tie would be just fine with us too.
Weddings today are both more and less formal than they once were. Less formal because I am not being assigned a tuxedo, but only the color of tie I am to wear with my gray suit. Both weddings will involve my gray suit, so I had it cleaned. Who says I am not good at planning? Weddings are more formal, however, in that the entire day of the wedding seems to involve some kind of activity. In 1990 I at least had enough time to fall down a flight of stairs and quit smoking. One did not cause the other, by the way.
One way weddings today are just like those of yore is that I know my job – it is to do what I am told. I will stand there (no, not there, THERE), be present, and otherwise look all fatherly. Which is a different look than groomy or husbandy, which was my assignment the last time. The modern version involves some gray hair.
Another way weddings have not changed is that they still involve lots of eating and at least a moderate amount of drinking. Less of the latter for me because 1) I have to drive home after things are all over and 2) because my ability to hold my liquor has gone the way of my ability to do 100 sit ups. As Dirty Harry once said, “A man’s got to know his limitations.”
Time has a way of speeding up when things get stressful, so I expect to be back here in about 90 minutes to report how everything went. Only it won’t really be 90 minutes, but about four weeks. Between now and then I will, well, just go with it – which will include some errand running, some toasting, some hosting, and maybe a little dancing. Which will be more of that last one than I did at my own wedding, owing to that tumble down the stairs. Hopefully I will avoid tumbling down the stairs again. And hopefully I will soak up all of the joy and gladness that comes from watching two of my children hit the starting gates of married life with the right person.
COAL update – I have got to do something because I keep forgetting to add these to the end. 4 hours in and it took Marianne to remind me that I spaced it. Again. Oh well.
How about a little pickup truck action? It was the perfect antidote to the breakup of a long-ago relationship.