Wedding Whoopsies

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: As I mentioned in Monday's chat and yesterday's video compilation, this is the month for graduations and weddings. Today is a beautiful Saturday in June, and some of you reading this may be getting ready for someone's nuptials!

Like the run-up to graduation (but X100,) preparations for a wedding can consume first the participants, then their family, then friends, and finally a whole community.  I was married thirty-one years ago (in May, not June) and what was then a long checklist of appointments, reservations, to-dos, dates and menu items has become, for many couples, a task approaching the Allied invasion of the continent on D-Day. I blame Pinterest, and I thank God I tied the knot before the era of social media, Because, you know, no matter how organized the bride is, no matter how firmly her mother has things in hand, no matter the pristine reputation of the hotel/wedding planner/limo service, something is going to go wrong.
I was listening to the founders of THE wedding website The Knot on NPR, and they described their own wedding - on a rooftop in DC in July. When the temperature was 111F. Can you imagine? I was at a wedding with a similar, though not as drastic problem: the bride and groom were getting married on a terrace outside a hotel. Things were running late, then later, until finally it was a genuine delay. Never explained, but I suspect, from the frantic activity in the nearest function room, that the hotel had goofed and forgotten to set up the small party's reception. The sun got higher and higher, the guests got hotter and hotter, and there was no liquid of any sort on hand. Naturally, people began trekking back to the venue's main bar, and once you've gotten a glass of water, may as well get the party started with a cocktail or chilled Rose.
Needless to say, by the time the violinist began playing the processional, most of the guests were either flirting with sunstroke or half in the bag. On the plus side, it was a very lively reception, and everyone danced!

My own wedding had a notorious "whoops" moment. Ross and I had a small noontime ceremony - only about 45 people - on the front porch of my grandmother's Greek Revival house in the small town where my family had lived for over 200 years. You would think after all those years of residence, someone would have remembered that the town fire whistle blew - deafeningly - every day at 12pm. But we didn't. The priest had just said, "Dearly beloved," when the whistle went off to a chorus of my family's giggles. When the noise finally died away, the priest began again. 


"We have come together in the presence of God to witness and bless the joining together of this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony." He paused. There was another noise, growing closer and louder. Chugga-chugga-chugga CHUGGA-chugga chugga. We had also forgotten Saturday was garbage collection day. Our guests, seated on the front lawn beneath graceful old maple trees, turned around to see the garbage truck idling at the foot of my grandmother's drive, its occupants evidently debating whether to wait for someone to break away from the wedding in progress and bring the can down to the road, or to move on.

At that point, my Uncle Ron, may his name be a blessing, entered into family lore. "Lois," he said to my mother, his usually mild voice rising above the sound of the truck engine. "The caterers are here."

How about you, Reds? Have you experienced any matrimonial mishaps?


INGRID THOFT: I’m not sure it’s such a bad thing when there’s a wedding mishap:  It’s good training for life cause things go wrong!  My own wedding was 70 guests, and since we’re not big dancers (and sensitive to others who don’t like to dance or yell over loud music) we planned the event to be a dinner party at which we got married.  We hired two guitarists to play during the ceremony and cocktail hour, and then another musician to play during dinner.  Except the second musician never showed.  I don’t even remember the reason/excuse, just that the guitarists graciously offered to stay the rest of the evening.  The music was wonderful, and the poor guitarists left with bloody fingers and an enormous tip.  Good thing we really like guitar music!  






RHYS BOWEN : My own wedding was a very small affair as we were getting married in Australia with almost no friends or family. But my former roommate from Australian broadcasting had promised to record the ceremony for me as a wedding present. It turned out afterward that the equipment had malfunctioned! We had no record of the day. And she was one of their premier reporters..... Also we were leaving Australia on a ship the next day, sailing to the US and the American consul wouldn't give me my entry visa until I was officially Mrs. John. So after a quick toast and slice of cake we had to drive to his home in the hills beyond Sydney to get my passport with the visa in it.

My own daughters both had dream weddings: gorgeous dresses, lots of people, good food and dancing into the night, which certainly made up for my own sparse celebration.




JENN MCKINLAY: Julia, your Uncle Ron! Serious belly laughs here! As for me, I was blessed with no mishaps. Crazy, right? We had a church wedding with 150 people, with just my mom standing up for me and Hub's dad standing up for him, and then a reception in a fireman's hall up in the desert hills of north Phoenix. Hub's bands (yes, plural) played. Everyone danced and ate and drank and made merry. It was a perfect day. Or maybe, I was just so surprised that I was actually getting married (it was not really in my life plan at that point) that I was oblivious to any screw ups. I delegated most of the wedding chores because i wasn't really interested, so the cake, the centerpieces, the flowers, and the music played were all a lovely surprise!

HALLIE EPHRON: My wedding was pretty small - 40 people at my parents fairly roomy NYC apartment. The rabbi had gotten fired that morning (he was the Columbia University rabbi and he'd been demonstrating with the students) and arrived drunk. Wearing cowboy boot and a purple graduation robe. He was supposed to talk for 3 minutes, read a bit from Kahlil Gibran (it was 1969!), and pronounce us wed. He went on. And on. Finally my father piped up NOT sotto voce: "Is he trying to marry them or talk them out of it?"

My daughter's wedding on Peaks Island overlooking Casco Bay was perfect. Her older sister and the groom's best friend officiated. Everyone was on their best behavior. If anything went wrong, I did not notice.





LUCY BURDETTE: First of all, Jenn, I cannot believe that you of all people didn't care about the CAKE! Meanwhile, at my first wedding, the photographer, a relative of the groom, did not show. So, no pictures other than a few snapshots. (Oh, and the porto-potty in the back of the pickup truck tipped over. But I can see that story is too convoluted to report.)

 

However, a few years later, when my best friend from grad school got married to a man she'd been living with, it was also very low key. No attendants and a green dress with a white lace dickey. And they had me act as photographer. This was back in the day when you sent your roll of film off to be developed and printed and the photos came back in the mail. Only they didn't. The torn envelope came back but the negatives were never recovered. No photos, not one.

And two divorces ensued. Moral of the story? No photos, just stop the presses right then and there!

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: I will skip the first couple of weddings, stories for another day. Jonathan and I got married in a little ceremony and a gorgeous suite at the four seasons. Family only. Everything was perfect, and beautiful (except the flowers, oh I almost forgot this, which I had SLAVED over, but were nothing like the florist and I had discussed. NOTHING! When I inquired a few days later about the PURPLE, (they were supposed to be all white and pale cream) he apologized, telling me he had been too hung over to do them the way he'd promised. Can you BELIEVE it?)



Anyway, the rabbi did not arrive. Did not arrive did not arrive did not arrive. We had no idea what to do, so we opened the champagne early, and everyone started drinking. Turned out the rabbi had been caught in some road race traffic. And because those were the days pre-cell phone, he had no way to tell us. It all turned out fine, and he showed up, and everybody was delighted.

The other thing: at the reception, which was at a glamorous and wonderful restaurant called Salamander. It was glorious party and everyone we knew was invited. (One couple brought THREE college age children saying they'd assumed they were invited too. They weren't.) But  at the end, after all the dancing and a cake made of cream puffs, when we stood up to say thank you, Jonathan‘s mom came to the front and said she had a couple of things to say.

I still have a picture of Jonathan‘s terrified face at that moment—his mother was famously unpredictable. Turns out, she read a poem she had written for her husband, Jonathan‘s father, at their wedding. There was not a dry eye.

JULIA: How about you, dear readers? What are the wedding whoopsies you've experienced?