The Wedding (part 1 of 3)

                Over this past week, I’ve experienced an odd spectrum of experiences. It just so happens that two different couples I know were going through their processes of getting married. One couple got married this Friday, while the other was having their bachelor and bachelorette parties on Saturday.

                So, in essence, I witnessed the final celebration of my friend’s life as a single man, and the first moment of my other friend’s life as a married woman. But, I saw them in reverse order, so it gave me an odd perspective.

                First, let’s talk about the wedding.

                I’m at the point in my life where many my friends are graduating college and moving on to the next phase of their lives, adulthood. Yes, the time in your life that you stop thinking about essays, drink specials, and getting laid. And you starting worrying about taxes, blood pressure, and some horrific thing called a “colonoscopy.” I’m not quite there yet, and I’m not sure if I ever will. I just don’t see a time in my life that I wouldn’t love cartoons.

                The wedding was preceded by me having to rush out and go buy a gift for the soon-to-be newlyweds. I’m not sure what made me feel more adult, buying a coffee maker, or printing off a registry at a Macy’s. The answer is neither, I felt more adult when I got really excited about the coffee maker being on sale.

                The wedding was beautiful, of course. The bride was gorgeous, of course. And the dance floor was an absolute train-wreck, of course. It’s a celebration.

                Looking out on the dance floor, I continued to ask myself, “will I ever be that uncool?” At what point in your life do you lose all rhythm and start dancing like you just found out you had functioning arms and legs. I’m guessing it’s the same time you decide to have the same haircut the rest of your life. But, who am I to judge? After a few (19) trips to the free bar, I became one of those dopes.

                I also had the pleasure of bringing a date to the event, my girlfriend. And thanks to having so many photographers as friends, I now have clear visual evidence that I can show my friends to prove I’m not gay. These are the sorts of things you value after being single for a while.

                There was a moment in the night when the reception was just winding down and the aforementioned abomination of a dance floor had pretty much cleared out. People were paying little attention to the music at this point, and people were ready to head home for the most part. The bride and groom were practically the only ones left on the dance floor, because the DJ had finally put on a song the bride actually requested, Bob Marley’s “Three Little Birds.” The smiles on their faces were like something you’ve seen in a picture frame at Target. The only difference was that these two people were experiencing real, genuine happiness, unlike the models.

                The groom picks up the bride from behind her knees and lays a big dramatic kiss on his wife. There is something moving about seeing love that up close. I know it sounds a bit cheesy, but it’s true. They didn’t do that because a photographer told them to, or because they thought it would be cute for everyone to see, they did it because they just decided to spend the rest of their lives together and couldn’t be more excited.

                That’s really what it comes down to. When all the hoopla of being young and in love and surrounded by people is over, what matters most is the two of them. If I’ve learned anything from watching my parents be together, it’s that making a relationship work is far from the easiest thing in the world, but it’s worth it if you’re right for each other.

                I know, allow me to give you a moment while you grab a tissue…

                If you’ve had enough of my clear influences from romantic comedies, the look for the next post in the next couple days. We will be discussing a bachelor party that… well… got a little weird.

                In the mean time, I will ask you to join me in my hunt to destroy the people responsible for claiming that Amy Winehouse is in any way comparable to Janis Joplin or Jimi Hendrix.

                And remember, it’s not all a joke, but it’s all funny.