Wedding memories

Over the weekend, we went to the wedding of a couple of kids from church. "Kids" being used rather loosely here, depending on your definition. The bride and groom were 20 and 23. When we got married, the bride and groom were 20 and 22. We thought we were adults who knew everything, but looking back on it now, we really were just kids.

Our wedding, which was 13 years ago next month, was a pretty nice affair, from what I've seen in pictures. And there were quite a few people there, from what I have seen of the guest registry. My main memories of it were: Go here. Now go here. Meet Aunt Fannie and Uncle Frank. Be sure to smile for the pictures. Eat this piece of cake. More pictures. Smile. Smile! Oh yes, and happy wedding to you!

Yes, our wedding day was pretty much a blur. I don't have any bad memories of the day. But everything seems so rushed looking back on it all. I remember the sound system popping loudly. I remember seeing some old friends and meeting some new, distant in-laws for the first time. I vaguely remember playing the piano at the beggining of the wedding service. I remember the glee I felt when my new brother-in-law couldn't find our car to decorate with all sorts of crude stuff he had bought. He couldn't find it because it wasn't there. Only about 6 people there knew it was at my grandparents' house. We were wanting to get away quickly, and cleaning off (and out) our only means of transportation wasn't figured into our honeymoon plans.

The wedding this weekend was a grand affair. A church building packed full of people. Bridesmaids not wearing any shoes, which apparently is some kind of fashion statement. And an auditorium so dark that I almost needed a flashlight to read the program. Would it kill you to turn up the lights just a bit? The honeymoon comes later, people! The guy making the video is a good friend of mine, and he was saying the same thing. The video won't turn out great at all because of the light level. I'm sure the photographer was thinking the same thing.

The reception afterward was even more swanky. All kinds of food, hot and cold. Shrimp stuck with toothpicks to artificial trees. Didn't even get to see the cakes because of all the people there. Did I mention there were people everywhere? The couple, and their parents, are quite well-liked. Either that, or they were passing out $20 bills at the door, and I somehow missed mine!

I've been to several weddings over the years. I'm in charge of the sound system at our church, so that requires me to be there for most all the weddings at our building (fortunately, this one was elsewhere). And every time we go to a wedding, my wife and I turn to each other and say the same thing, "I'm glad this isn't ours!"

Yes, we are quite happy to have that over and done with. It was a great day, and one that we will always remember, even if those memories are mainly based on pictures. But we wouldn't do it again on a dare. If we knew then what we know now - that the wedding ceremony isn't anywhere near as important as the marriage itself - we would have eloped. Saving everyone much time and money. Not eating up everyone's entire day (the nerve of some people, having their wedding at 1:30 on a perfect summer afternoon!).

But then we wouldn't have the pictures. I mean memories.

Over the weekend, I was driving along a road not too far from our house, and I noticed up ahead a sign affixed to a mailbox. My first thought was that it was a campaign sign for the upcoming elections - "Bubba Hardknuckle for Sheriff" or something like that. As I got closer, I could see that it was a homemade sign. I thought maybe it was something like one of those "Lordy, lordy, Bubba is 40" signs. Not the same Bubba as the Bubba running for sheriff. A different Bubba. You gotta keep your Bubba's straight, you know. Once I worked for a company of about 25 people, and there were not one but two Bubbas employed there. Had to use their last names just to keep them straight - Bubba Smith, and Bubba Johnson. Go figure. But I digress.

As I approached the mailbox in question, I could finally make out the colorful magic markered words on the side: "Vote Taylor Hicks American Idol". I just about wrecked the car.

Let me be perfectly honest here. I hate reality television. With a passion. And I can honestly say that, even though I have never watched any of the reality TV shows - American Idol, Survivor, Big Brother, The Amazing Race, Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, Dancing with the Stars, The Osbornes, you name it. The closest I have come to reality TV is either America's Funniest Home Videos, or Whose Line Is It Anyway?

When I go to turn on the television, I want something entertaining. And "entertaining" to me means something with a plot. Some story to involve me. Something where writers have actually worked to write something, and actors are actually acting while a director is directing. Not some people who think they can sing or dance, or some idiots trying to outwit each other in some hostile environment. Those reality shows to me are just a waste of airtime and advertiser dollars.

But then I started thinking about how these shows reach out to people. Especially the younger generation, causing them do to such things as decorating a mailbox with a sign for their favorite contestant. So I came up with this great idea.

For the next Presidential election, let's scrap the whole voting process. Throw out the electoral college, exit polls, and all that other mess. Instead, have the candidates compete for the presidency in reality shows! That will bring in the disenfranchised youth of America! And give grandma something to talk about at the hairdresser!

Can't you just see it now - Hillary Clinton and Jeb Bush conniving against each other in Survivor: Baghdad. Bill Frist and Christopher Dodd singing the songs of the Osmonds on American Idol! Vote now! That ought to get the power of the people moving!

Don't hold your breath!

I wish I could make a living doing stupid stuff.

David Blaine seems to be doing well at it.

He's balanced on a platform 100 feet off the ground for 35 hours. He's been buried alive for a week. He's lived in a big block of ice for 61 hours. He's lived in an acrylic box above the Thames River.

And now, he has spent all week in an aquarium. Or water ball. Or whatever you want to call it. "Stupid" comes to mind.

On top of that, he tried to break the record for holding his breath. He failed. Big deal.

But it was a big deal, apparently. At least to the folks in ABC's marketing department. They pay him big bucks each year to do some crazy stunt for May sweeps. They must be making some money off of the deal, because they keep on doing it. And it does get them a lot of media publicity. Because it seems like every half-reputable news outlet (and even less reputable ones, such as this blog) mention the stunt, and eventually mention ABC as well. (You're welcome, guys)

So then he complains. Pain in his joints. Skin on his hands peeling off. I've got a simple cure for all that - get a life!

But then I start to figure out how much money he is getting by putting his life on the line each year in the latest brainless act. And I think maybe there's something to that after all. So maybe I should come up with some crazy stunt to do as well, and see if I can make a living off of that.

Think they have any openings for American Idol judges?

Day Without Immigrants = No Salsa!

Last night, we decided to go out to our favorite Mexican restaurant, without even thinking about what was going on in the world. Actually, I did think about it just a couple of minutes before we got there. And sure enough, it was closed.

I was pretty frustrated. Okay, I was downright mad. Now don't get me wrong. I like all the guys that work there. They always recognize us when we come in, and they all give our son lots of attention, which makes me feel good.

And I know they are concerned about their status and that of other immigrants. I probably would be, too. But that didn't help my craving for salsa any, or my intense longing for combination #5 - a burrito and an enchilada with rice and beans. I was pretty bummed. I threatened not to go back when they are open. But that was just an empty threat, since I do enjoy their food, and they have great service. I know immigrants across the country were just trying to make a statement. But on me at least, it didn't quite have the effect they were looking for.

So immigrants spoke with their labor, showing their social and economic strength. I spoke with my wallet, going down the road to our favorite Italian restaurant. Which was open. And is also run by an immigrant.