Went to a lovely wedding today. It had all the elements I appreciate. The bride was beautiful, her dress was impeccable, her hair perfect, her makeup glamorous but not too much, just lovely. The ceremony was meaningful but mercifully short, just lovely. The reception was professional all the way: Tables assigned with table cards, tasteful centerpieces, cake decorated with flowers and rhinestones, just lovely. The prime rib was delicious. I asked for the “fattiest piece no one else wants,” and someone else in line chuckled, but that’s the piece I got and it was all that, just lovely.
Weddings are nice, but having been married twice, I realize weddings are lovely only for a day. It’s the marriage that requires loveliness. The pastor today had a wonderful line about marriage … that is should be the place to escape “the meanness, the madness, the misery of life.” After the wedding with its ceremony and good hair and handsome tuxedos that are returned the next day, at its best, yes, marriage should be just that, an escape from the meanness and the madness, and when it is, it’s just lovely.
Oh, how I love thee! Let me count the ways. I love …
- How you can perfectedly grill my ribeye to medium rare, and then offer me the best bite of your filet mignon. I don’t know if you’re showing off or being outrageously generous, and I don’t care.
- How you can assemble a mean chili from leftovers (and a lot of cans of diced tomatoes).
- How you’re willing to eat anything, including the hockey pucks I served you last week when I burned the leftover mini meatloafs.
- How you enjoy sushi as much as I do.
- How you can make spaghetti sauce without a recipe.
- How you wield a chef’s knife like a surgeon when you’re cutting apart a hunk of meat.
- How you can poach an egg to perfection without setting a timer.
- How you’re best friends with the local butcher so he’s always willing to cut you inch-and-a-half thick pork chops without complaining even though he has inch-thick ones in his case.
- How every breakfast you make isn’t complete unless it has two kinds of meat (sausage and bacon) or crispy hashbrowns. And sometimes all three.
- How you seek out hole-in-the-wall Mexican joints because you’re willing to risk a bad meal for an amazing new experience. And how you have a knack for always seeming to find amazing hole-in-the-wall Mexican joints instead of bad meals.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my stomach can stretch!
I went on a double date last night. It wasn’t exactly a traditional double date, but I guess nothing is perfectly traditional in a blended family, huh?
Tyler and I doubled with Cas and his new Girlfriend. Cas can’t drive, you know, and the nearest movie theatre is 15 miles away, so without a chauffeur, a driver of some sort was required to accomplish this date. Since Tyler and I were not interested in keeping ourselves busy elsewhere, as was requested, we saw a movie at the same theatre as Cas and Girlfriend. (“Please, not the same movie, too, Dad!”) And, in a coincidental chauffeur role on the way, we picked up our stepdaughter at the train station, as she would be spending the weekend with us.
So, the five us went to the movie theatre together. Dutiful chauffeurs, we dropped Cas and Girlfriend at the door, and parked a “long way away” so we wouldn’t be standing in line right behind them. Cas and Girlfriend saw “Push,” and Tyler, I and Morgan saw “Slumdog Millionnaire.”
Not exactly a romantic Valentine’s Eve date like I might have experienced at some other time in my life, but interesting and fun nonetheless. Girlfriend wasn’t too giggly, too talkative, too quiet or too forward (whew!), and “Slumdog Millionaire” wasn’t too violent, too long, too Hollywood or too pointless.