Being, ahem, punk rock for so many years I always feel uncomfortable being out in public in "nice" clothes. Since I was taking BART to Berkeley for the wedding, there was no avoiding it though. I did wear my boots and carry my wingtips however, because I didn’t want to slip on the worn soles and fall onto the 3rd rail*.
But almost as soon as I hit the BART train, I was joined by fellow punk rock party-goers (http://home.earthlink.net/~jheermann/ -though it could use an update, and his sweet, stylish friend who obsessively reads blogs. Hi!). Safety in numbers. Then, right after that a friend of my brother’s and his little kid got on. Whoo-hoo, I’m not on the Richmond train. I must be on the party train!
After a bunch of milling and hushed "Who’s that?"s, it was time for the ceremony to begin. It was one of the best I’ve ever been to. First, there was the inspired choice of two Modesto punk girls to create and guard the aisle. Nobody was going to jump out and take a picture with them on duty.
And the vow part? Amazing. Not only did they include the fine print "It’s unfair that others can not have their unions legally recognized" that any self-respecting heterosexuals should have in their weddings, but they also included a phrase I’ve been waiting years to hear. "We aren’t asking those of you who don’t believe in marriage to compromise your beliefs, but we appreciate your presence at this event which is so important to us.". There was the perfect blend of crying and laughing and the whole thing lasted about 10 minutes. Perfect.
Other fabulous things:
-homebrew for the reception, "Bitter Bride" and "Fruity Groom".
-the wonderful California accent on the best man. Fucking Rep-re-sent! Dude!
-Lots of librarians.
-The wedding band. Among other things, two accordions and a toy piano.
-The toast that managed to detail the bride’s borderline stalking behavior before she’d actually met the future groom.
And, though I do love family drama during weddings, this one had the potential to get really ugly. But everyone behaved and didn’t ruin the event for the bride and groom. It’s nice when parents can act like grown ups for a change.
The only fun family moment occurred out of sight, in the women’s bathroom. The bride’s mother was telling the bride’s 17 year old sister, , "Now your sister is finally an adult. This is what it means to be an adult." A friend, overhearing this, rightfully butted in and said, ‘Really, I think she’s been a grown woman for a long time. She’s 33. She’s independent. She bought her own car. . .(etc.)" Mom replied, talking to the sister, "No. This is what it means to be an adult." Back at the table, a few intimate friends thought of some other milestones that could have been added, but I’ll spare you those.
If you’re going to get married, this is the way to do it.
*I still have a hard time saying "3rd rail" without quoting the Beastie Boys, "(something something something something) drinking ale / I got nothing to lose, so I’m pissing on the 3rd rail."