Another June, Another Wedding

For the second year in a row, we got to travel to an out of town family wedding. This time we flew resulting in a shorter trip and not quite as much adventure:

Five minutes prior to our flight's departure from the gate, the captain came on the intercom:

“Well, I guess this isn't really bad news but we have an equipment problem, and we'll have to ask everyone to vacate the plane. Hopefully, we can get a replacement plane and get you on your way.”

I wondered what he considered bad news. I can imagine his announcement if the plane suddenly started going down in a flaming death spiral:

“Well folks, as you can see we're having some issues up here but it's not the worst news. Oh wait, here comes the worst part...”

 

The second morning, I left the hotel room to get our morning coffee from the lobby Starbucks. As I waited for the elevator, I heard a bell ringing and pounding from one of the elevator doors followed by, “Hello? Hello?”

Apparently a damsel was stuck on the elevator. This caused a dilemma: help her out or go get my coffee (and maybe I should take the stairs to do so)?

With no tools, I figured I probably couldn't get the door open. I also realized that if I said anything to her, she might get irrational expectations that I could actually help, so I just went downstairs. But I did tell the front desk about her before I got the coffee.

(Note: I always thought the proper spelling for “dilemma” was “dilemna”. Not true, apparently. )

Pretty much every wedding weekend I attend involves a golfing excursion. This time we got to play with my 14 year-old nephew who was playing for the second or third time ever. We taught him some very important lessons:

• Every golfer must learn how to drive the cart with his left foot while sitting on the passenger side, left hand on steering wheel and right hand holding a beer. (we allowed him to hold a soda instead)
• He must also master the art of leaning out of the moving cart to pluck a golf ball from the ground.
• If you hit an errant shot that hits a house, car, or person, do not approach! Immediately drive to the other side of the fairway, drop a new ball and pretend like nothing happened and/or blame it on someone else in the group.
• Never hit on the beer cart girl for the same reason you never hit on strippers or Hooters' waitresses.

The outdoor, riverside, wedding ceremony started at 6:00 p.m. Everyone had large sweat stains on their backs before the dancing even started. Probably the best part occurred during a quiet prayerful moment during the ceremony when someone from a passing boat yelled, “Don't do it!”

During the reception, some guests grumbled that the DJ wasn't playing enough 70's music (ie disco). A family member mentioned something along the lines of, “with the exception of REM, the 80's were the worst decade for music.”

Flabbergasted, I stammered, “What? I will put together a three hour symposium on how 80's music is superior to 70's music.” Just then, a Bon Jovi song came on. “Okay, that doesn't help my case, but...”

The only disappointing thing about the trip was that there was no Kung Fu Fighting at the reception (the song nor a real fight).

Notes from an Extended Dance Vacation

We recently returned from one of our longest vacations ever (8 days) which involved driving half-way across the country:

On day 1, we checked into our hotel. The hotel clerk handed me the key along with a typed note detailing the high crime in the area and advising us to not leave anything in our car. We carried everything into the room then locked ourselves inside until dawn.

Actually we did go out for dinner and enjoyed a pleasant evening on a deck overlooking the river where 2 guys sang and played guitars. One guy performed while he smoked a cigarette. When he played, he held the cigarette in his mouth, and when he sang he strummed the guitar with the cigarette in his fingers. America’s got talent.

On day 2, we struggled driving through massive storms in Arkansas which eventually brought traffic to a halt. St. Pauli Girl doesn’t like to sit still and told me she was going to drive the car down a steep embankment, through the grassy median to the other side of the interstate where we could then plan an alternate route. Luckily traffic started moving before she could proceed with her plan. Later when traffic stopped again, she gunned the car through a construction area and did a U-turn on the interstate.

Day Two’s Lesson: Never order “Fish and Chips” at a truck stop. Unless you grew up in the 70’s and loved fish sticks.

We finally made it all the way to Memphis where of course we had to go to Graceland. They provide you with a set of headphones for your own personal audio walking tour. The narrator pointed out that flash photography is not allowed in the mansion. The bus driver reiterated this warning, followed by additional warnings from tour guides as we got off the bus and just before we entered the mansion. Within 30 seconds of entering the mansion, flashes started going off. But the cool thing was that activated a hidden, pre-recorded, booming voice in the house which once again advised against flash photography. A less sophisticated person would think it was Elvis’ voice from beyond the grave. But more than likely, it was the Colonel’s.



That night we actually had a great time on Beale Street which I expected to be a big tourist trap. We stumbled onto the Brandon Santini Band which I highly recommend to anyone who enjoys great music. At one point, St. Pauli Girl asked me to get her a chardonnay in this sketchy blues club which specialized in Pabst Blue Ribbon in Big Gulp cups. “If I do that, they might kick my ass,” I told her.

I finally went up to the bar and told the bartender loudly, “PBR in the big cup,” then whispered while shrugging and rolling my eyes, “and a chardonnay for the little lady.” I successfully came back with drinks to the table and no fisticuffs.

We arrived in Cincinnati where my brother had set up golf tee-times at his exclusive country club. Of course it rained, and we had to cancel. I accused my brother of never having ever belonged to even the local putt-putt course as this was the third time we had been rained out at playing at one of his “exclusive” clubs. The scary thing is this means my brother can control the weather.

Day 5: Duck Fat French Fries!

I confess that I love a good wedding. It’s just one of those great, feel-good celebrations where everyone is joyous except for those involved in the planning and those that get their car dinged in the church parking lot. A great wedding needs three things:

1. Alcohol (a cash bar is fine)

2. Heavy hors d'oeuvres (or full sit-down dinner)

3. Dancing (including at least 2 or 3 polka songs)

(optional) A fight and/or wardrobe malfunction between women trying to catch the bridal bouquet

Luckily this wedding had all three and then some! But the wedding and our entire trip was almost ruined when the DJ cut off “Kung Fu Fighting” in the middle of the song. He should probably have his license revoked. So really, the full-length version of “Kung Fu Fighting” is the fourth thing a great wedding needs. And it must be the Carl Douglas version. But if you don't have music then a real kung fu fight is also acceptable.

On our way home, we stopped at a hotel and asked for a non-smoking room. We received a room where the ashtray had been turned upside down. (And if you guessed Arkansas, you win a free lifetime membership to this blog.)

No Jacket, No Tie, No Service

Having recently attended a semi-formal social function, I am reminded of a grave problem facing the American public: men under-dressing their women. It’s really not as kinky as it sounds. It’s the act of women dressing up in a nice dress or skirt and heels and their husband/boyfriend dressing for a tee-time at the municipal golf course except with tennis shoes instead of golf shoes.

This most often happens at weddings and Christmas parties. Let’s take the wedding as an example. The bride-to-be spends an infinite amount of time and money searching for the perfect wedding gown then spends six hours the day of the wedding getting manicured, buffed, coiffed, and dressed. Meanwhile the bridegroom usually wears a formal tuxedo as a sign of deference and respect. It’s part of the deal. Granted, he usually just rents it and then gets a discount when his groomsmen use the same tux shop, but he puts out some effort and those rental shoes really hurt. Regardless, the bride and groom set the tone down through the fabulously dressed bridesmaids, groomsmen and ushers. Their efforts demand the respect of guests dressing appropriately.

Women seemed to have figured this out and always dress for the occasion. But even if men are clueless about societal functions, they should be able to take the cue from their wives/girlfriends and dress up to them. For example when a woman spends one to two hours getting ready for a wedding, the man shouldn’t wait until the last minute and then toss her the car keys and say, “Honey, pull the car around while I put something on.” Even if you are married, this is a sure sign of disrespect, and that your wife could probably do better. For instance, a young couple shows up at a wedding. The woman wears a lovely little black dress, Wonderbra, and six-inch heels while her boyfriend at least puts on a tie but tops off the ensemble with tennis shoes. Now that’s a cute outfit for a high school prom, but in the real world it just leaves people wondering, “I wonder how long before she dumps the 12-year-old.”

Living in the Great Republic throws a wrench into this problem. . I recently scoffed at a be-wrinkled man in jeans and untucked shirt following around his attractive, cocktail-dressed wife. “Do you think she’ll even speak to him tonight?” I asked St. Pauli Girl. “You think he could have at least put on a tie and ironed his shirt?”

“Well, he is wearing his good boots,” she replied.

So I have a lot to learn about Texas.

As a service to all of the misguided gentlemen and the discerning ladies out there, I offer these tips for proper dressing of the man:

How to Dress Equal to Your Woman

A. Casual Day
HER: t-shirt, jeans and tennis shoes.

YOU: Her very casual attire means that you are either already married to her or are just a general acquaintance. There is a danger of overdressing in this scenario; since you are either married or friends, overdressing will only showcase sinister intentions. Therefore, dress like the vagabond you normally are.

TEXANS: It’s okay to wear your rodeo jeans and muddy boots. Go with a baseball or gimme cap.

B. Business Casual
HER: Nice, button-up blouse, slacks and sensible shoes.

YOU: You can get away with designer jeans if she’s into that but play it safe with a pair of khaki pants, golf shirt is okay (button all buttons except the top). Lose the tennis shoes; that could be a deal breaker.

TEXANS: Clean rodeo jeans and slightly muddy boots are okay. Tuck in the shirt. An everyday cowboy hat is okay as long as it’s in season.

C. Church
HER: Simple dress, accessories, extra make-up, careful attention to hair, and designer cologne.

YOU: In this case, the man should only wear nice jeans if he’s also wearing a sport coat. Do not underestimate the jeans and sport coat look, the jacket shows that you’ve put some extra thought into this and very well could close the deal.

TEXANS: Same as above but clean under your fingernails and wear your church boots.

D. Cocktail Party
HER: some type of casual dress or skirt, minor heels, minimum to negligible cleavage.

YOU: The man has a couple of options here but definitely requires a tie or sport coat. Stick with the khaki pants, a long sleeve dress shirt is required (only 1 open button, no gold chains or visible chest hair unless your date is a stripper) with either a matching tie or sport coat. Casual dress shoes.

TEXANS: Either designer jeans or your best clean pair, long sleeved dress or western shirt (up to 3 open buttons) and any boots.

E. The Christmas Party
HER: Designer dress bought especially for the occasion, tanning salon tan, maximum heels and cleavage.

YOU: You need to bring out your best in this scenario. You can go the suit route if you’re still trying to close the deal but at least a nice dress shirt, tie, dress pants, sport coat and dress shoes. (Note: I am assuming that you or your wife knows how to color coordinate.)

TEXANS: Pressed jeans, Western shirt and your formal cowboy hat.

F. The Wedding (someone else’s)
HER: Same as the Christmas Party except more formal or sluttier depending on her age and personality. Maximum heels and cleavage.

YOU: Sport coat ensemble is acceptable but a nice suit really shows your woman the respect she deserves. Shoes should also be freshly polished preferably from an airport shoeshine.

TEXANS: Pressed jeans, long sleeved dress or pearl-snap shirt, formal cowboy hat, most expensive boots. Absolutely no mud.

G. Random Street Corner
HER: A leopard print mini-skirt, low cut bustier with rhinestones, fishnet stockings, and 8-inch thick platform shoes.

YOU: Wear whatever you want; you paid for her.