On Saturday, I went to Eric's wedding to Kat. I brought Christine, who looked incredible despite overcoming a flu-like illness, something she got from her mother who got it the week previous from "an olive." Sounds like it belongs more in the food poisoning family, but I digress. Must have been some contaminated olive.
The wedding was at 11AM in Elk Grove Village. I had never been to a non-Catholic wedding, so I wasn't sure what the "local customs" would be. Overall, it was pretty much the same, except for a bunch of sinner talk from the pastor (priest? reverend? What's the Lutheran equivalent?), a video and a hymn played on the guitar by the best man. It was the right duration; not too long, not too short. The bride and groom looked more adult than I feel at 23. I suppose the trimmings of a wedding will do that. Having ebbed and flowed from my own religious moorings in the last six years, I was especially glad to see two people deeply rooted in their faith make solemn vows to each other -- and notably also to God -- and promise to live their newly joint life by the lessons of their beliefs. They adhere to a higher being than either of them; they have such respect and love for each other, it is seemingly impossible to break. It was really reaffirming of the institution of marriage, for it really eliminated that nagging divorce rate from my mind. If any two people are going to survive the assured trials of marriage, my money is on the Olsens. And I don't even know Kat yet. I got this all from watching them get married. That's something.
After the ceremony, the reception was at the Stonegate in Hoffman Estates. My Rand McNally directions oddly had me go West on Higgins and then make a U-turn and go East. I figured it would make sense to me once I was driving it, but it didn't. Christine and I went West then East then West again and then finally found it. I really thought Rand McNally would be better than Mapquest. Stupid mistake, Rand.
The reception was fantastic. That's where all the fun happens anyway. When we got to our table, Eric's friend Justin came over to me and dared me to fling the pad of butter at Eric. I didn't, but imagine how funny it would be if the groom got doused with something at the reception. Like butter, or gak, or that nasty shit from "You Can't Do That On Television" & "Double Dare." The food was by far the best wedding food I've ever had. I'm talking nice restaurant quality. Very surprising.
When it came time for the speeches, the emcee kept mispronouncing Matt's last name as "Burkman" and no one corrected him or laughed or anything. Matt even acted as if that was his name. I know I'm writing in hyperbole here, but it needs to be added that Matt's best man speech was a perfect best man speech. It was funny, it was poignant, it was meaningful. Matt was really nervous when I spoke to him before they openend the reception hall, but when he gave the speech, his voice was free of nerves and full of confidence. It was quite long and he had notecards and usually that comes across like a high-school report, where you look down and not at the audience and fill dead air with "ums" and coughs. Matt gave his speech like he was acting in a movie.
I cannot imagine being 23 and married, probably because I'm nowhere close. But many people can. I'm simultaneously jealous of Eric and glad it wasn't me. It's such a large step -- no, a leap -- in life that it must be nice beginning to ease into his next fifty plus years with his wife. But at the same time, I don't think my man-child-ness could handle all the adult responsibilities, expectations, and events that come from such a union. Not yet.
This was the first friend of mine to get married, the first in what will be a long line of weddings in the next ten years. It's that time of life....
