Voodoo Time Dot Com

Weddings are one of those things that you’re sort of forced to attend from time to time as people you know and/or love get married. If you’re lucky, one or two or three of those weddings may be your own. Such is the situation in which I found myself a week ago last Saturday as I stood, in a tuxedo, in the midst of a hot Iowa summer’s day.

As I stood waiting for my bride to come down the aisle, I looked out over the nearly 200 people who came out to celebrate the event, whether out of love, friendship, or social obligation. I remembered the talks my soon-to-be wife and I had about our wedding so many months ago - the small, intimate wedding we had originally planned. Four to five times that many people sat before me now. I smiled nervously at a sea of unfamiliar faces. Happy faces. Bored faces. Critical faces. What-the-hell-am-I-doing-here faces. And that was just my family. (They know I kid)

The wedding was held at a historic mansion styled after a royal manor house in England. It was a short walk from the front door of this house down to the garden within which the ceremony would take place. Did I mention it was really hot that day? Getting married outside in the midwest in the middle of summer is an exercise in discomfort. In fact, going outside at all during the summer in the midwest is just an all-around bad idea. But there I was, keeping the sweat away by sheer force of will as the 95-degree air hung on me like a wet towel; the sun slowly baking me as it poured over my charcoal-grey tuxedo jacket. I blinked the glare from my eyes while trying to keep from looking as though I suffered from some tourettic facial tic.

Once I caught the first glimpse of ivory across the lawn that would soon resolve itself into the image of my bride, everything became more or less a blur. Somehow I managed to say all of my lines correctly and intelligibly. I remembered which hand to put her ring on. And best of all, I remembered not to lock my knees, and consequently managed to keep my feet throughout the entire ceremony.

So, having been through one of these things, I feel I should offer a few small bits of advice to my fellow men who will someday take the same fateful walk.

1. Wear comfortable shoes. My shoes pinched something awful. They also had no tread on the sole, which nearly proved treacherous across the haphazard masonry that paved the walk down the aisle.

2. Get married someplace with air-conditioning. If that wool coat feels heavy in the tuxedo shop, just think of how heavy it’s going to feel once it’s melted onto your body.

3. Wear comfortable shoes. Seriously.

Bye for now.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, August 6th, 2002 at 10:41 pm and is filed under Thoughts. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.