Mrs. Linklater Regrets

There was a wedding I didn't go to last weekend. Two attractive young people who came from perfectly acceptable suburban towns decided it would be idyllic to get married up in the Lake George area of New York on the edge of the Adirondacks. I took one look at the map and realized that the region was accessible only by a five hour drive from Newark airport and took a pass.

Oh sure I could have flown into Albany, that bastion of international travel -- if I'd wanted to cram into one of those "regional" jets and land in a Wal Mart parking lot between two RV's. Or I could have driven up with friends and hoped they stopped a few times so I could pee. But I'd rather be here counting cicada carcasses. 

I must admit I'm a little sorry I missed a rehearsal dinner that promised a twilight boat ride around the lake. And a steak and champagne reception following the wedding that, according to eyewitnesses, lasted until dawn.

However, as lovely as it all sounds on paper, I learned the hard way that food and boating sometimes don't mix well. As for staying up all night at a wedding reception, I haven't done that on purpose since my college roomie got married the first time. The second time she went down the aisle, the reception lasted longer than the marriage,

The best man for the Adirondack nuptials called to run his speech by me. He and the groom are cousins and close as brothers. So he had plenty of material. But I thought he should keep it short, say, under an hour.

After listening to some of his amusing personal anecdotes, the only regret I have about not making an effort to get to the celebration is not being able to give my own special toast to the newlyweds.

To the groom, who just found out during these final hours before the wedding that his new bride won't be taking his last name -- don't forget what I said to you that summer six years ago, when you two lovebirds were first dating and your future bride announced that she had an eating disorder: "You may not want to spend too much money on expensive dinners."  Aren't you glad I gave you such good advice? Now you've saved enough money to have this lovely wedding and delightful reception. Skip enough of those fancy meals she just throws up and you two will be on easy street in no time.

To the bride -- what a lovely young woman you are -- okay, a little personality challenged, but apparently you got good enough scores on your LSAT's to attend a top law school this fall. To you I say, be prepared to make a boatload of money because if you have to live on what the groom is going to make in his chosen career as a bureaucrat in a government job, you can kiss your Manolos good bye. Not that a good pair of sensible shoes is anything to sneeze at, but I think you catch my drift. Oh, and you might want to double the number of times you've been having sex since you started living together. Two times a month is not too much to ask I think.

I'm getting all misty-eyed just imagining the number of late night hook ups that went down at the wedding. Maybe even the bride and groom. I also wonder if anyone's taking bets on how long the marriage is going to last.

I don't think they'll make it till death do us part. Unless one of them parts ways by killing the other. 

Sometimes my cynicism even scares me.