Today my Sister and I watched the live online streaming of our friend’s wedding. We were very excited. We started out sitting side-by-side with a tin of popcorn between us, although she soon migrated up to the couch, leaving me on the floor directly in front of the laptop stand.
My Sister says that this is a far superior way to attend weddings with me, as she claims that in the past I have been known to whisper loud comments of questionable appropriateness during ceremonies.
For some reason, we could not access the sound, so we settled for inventing our own dialogue. However, because we’re us, this did not last very long. We soon fell to squabbling.
Things we bickered about:
1. Whether the guy standing behind The Groom was his best man or his body guard.
2. Whether or not the white guy behind him was our friend The Gospel Magician.
3. Whether The Groom was using his handkerchief to wipe away sweat, tears, or both.
4. Whether or not he would dip The Bride during the kiss. (One of us may even have begun chanting “Dip HER! Dip HER!”, but it didn‘t work.)
The bickering lasted until the candle-lighting ceremony, at which time we argued the merits of substituting a cigarette-lighting ceremony instead (a Camel lighting). It was also during the candle lighting that I attempted to sing some special music, only to be interrupted when my Sister kicked me in the head and tried to claim that it was an accident.
During the long periods of talking, or points at which the bandwidth seemed to be overcome and the screen became stuck on a particular image, my Sister and I indulged in more light chanting (“Give us the KISS! Give us the KISS!“) and discussed various “What If” bridal scenarios:
1. What if The Groom’s attempt to produce the ring resulted in an epic fumble-roo-ski, with The Groom bobbling the ring countless times before losing control of it and having to run up the aisle all hunched over in an effort to catch it as it rolled away.
2. What if The Gospel Magician produced the rings by magic, such as pulling them out from behind The Bride’s ear (or making them appear from a magic bag like he does with his disappearing egg).
3. What if the pastor accidentally said “And now it is time for the bows” instead of saying vows.
4. What if instead of processing up the aisle at the end, The Bride and Groom asked The Gospel Magician to make them disappear completely and transport them directly to the reception hall, where they would be ready to greet their astonished guests at their leisure.
We then fell to discussing plans for our own future weddings, in the highly unlikely event that either of us ever has to plan one. We debated the merits of:
1. Conducting the ceremony in Pig Latin (with subtitles for audience members who are not part of our immediate family and are therefore likely to be less adept).
2. Producing a full-on opera, with all vows sung and accompanied by a live orchestra (conducted by The Director, of course, who will surely be over his Shingles by then). Regardless of which of us were to be the bride, I would don a helmet with horns sticking out of it, and my Sister would wear a bronze breastplate and carry a spear.
3. The appropriateness of my stomping up the aisle to “Dies Irae” (“The Day of Wrath,” from Mozart’s Requiem).
4. A Masquerade Wedding, in which everyone carries those sly little masks on sticks to hold up in front of their faces while speaking with exaggeratedly rounded vowel tones. In that case, there would be nothing for it but to use Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Masquerade” for the wedding march.
5. A Medieval Wedding Feast, complete with a roast pig, tankards of frothy beverages, jugglers, minstrels, and a Fool.
This last one, my Sister has actually been considering for some time. She genuinely believes that if she ever does get married, this is what she will do.
She also says that when she does, I will be The Fool.