As has been documented, I am faced with a situation where people that surround me both in my immediate neighborhood and at my workplace don't share my values, and it tends to make me a bit (or more than a bit) cynical and jaded about our culture here in the states at large. Evidence beyond those arenas, however (from popular culture to elections) tends to support my general feeling of dismay. It makes it easy to forget that there is a sizeable contingent of true peers out there in the land (those few readers of The Oliopolis, for the most part, included).
Nevertheless, I am out of the frying pan of UN-belonging and into the fire this evening. We are going to a wedding. You know the kind. Where an old high school friend of a spouse finally hooks up and you are invited either as a result of some grand attempt to recreate the glory of yesteryear or (worse, and often my suspicion) the need to fill out a roster and pack the house. All the best to her and her new husband (who I will be meeting for the first and quite probably last time tonight), but I am dreading the occasion like there is no tomorrow.
How about this for advice to all people looking to plan a wedding: do unto others as you would have them do unto you. I am not kidding. Put yourself in the position of the couple that you are considering inviting and ask yourself honestly (it's really not that hard): if I were in their position, would I want to come? You may end up discovering that you cut your wedding guest list, and thus expenses, by two thirds or more. But sadly, no; not many people are really in the mindset of sparing any expense for themselves, nor any moments of awkwardness for potential witnesses to their special day. And so tonight we will go, desperately, desperately hoping that they are not going to make a vile announcement such as: Since everyone here is so special to us, we've decided to mix and match your seating arrangement so you'll be meeting people you didn't previously know. That might just about be enough to drive my general level of uncomfortability to the point of madness.
But the kicker: they registered for gifts. Consider this for a moment. They are two full-time working adults, approaching the age of 35 (she is, at least-he could be 78 for all I know). Firmly situated within the ranks of the upper middle class. And they registered at Target. Maybe I'm totally misunderstanding the tradition here, but isn't the whole gift-giving thing about helping a newly-married young couple on their feet? A glance at the 12-page (I shit you not, 12 pages) registry, the first two items I saw were a six megapixel digital camera and an eight person tent. Christ, almighty, why not invite 300-plus guests and turn your memorable occasion into a bona-fide haul? There might yet be one or two items on the red shelves at Target that aren't yet on the beige shelves of your five bedroom suburban home. Or at least not in the color you want. Boy, coming from the school of at least aspiring non-consumerist, this really ticked me off. The wedding will be at a Catholic church (you know-the religion where priests take a vow of poverty?). Did they consider-even once-asking guests if, in lieu of gifts, they donate to a charity? I know the answer of course.
Anyway, we got them potholders.
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3 comments:
God I hate weddings.
I have had great times at several weddings, including my own and many of the readers of this blog, but I dread, dread going to those tangential weddings. They aren't fun if you don't know a significant number of people, and those people are fun. It's a tough trick to pull off.
When we got married we registered, including at Target, and I was 30. I know we weren't so audacious as to request anything particularly expensive. We certainly had things on the list that we didn't need, but then again, we only had 40 people at our wedding, only a couple of whom I see now as being superfluous.
For whatever it's worth, we didn't do a registery. We're unasssuming by nature. This threw a few people. In the end, we got a decent set of dishes and cutlery, and a few other things (think bedspreads), and a couple of picnic baskets, which were the vogue wedding gift at the time. We weren't looking for a haul of anything. We were dirt-poor students, and I guess among the things I failed to exploit was our dirt-poorness. We were out of the country a year later, anyway.
I make these comments to you, Dan, with empathy because we are now among those whom you see walking the aisles of Target with a stack of pastel-blue papers, looking lost. I have to hand it to Target, they've got this registery thing down. The print-outs tell you in which aisle the selected items are, whether they have them or if you'll need to go online to get them. We always get the doormat.
As a followup-for what it's worth. It was not neary as bad as I was prepared for. The reception was outdoors, and we sat next to a small group of good friends. Shawn & I talked pretty much through the whole thing and they had a prepaid open bar. It was kind of weird to see people at an event like that having way too much to drink. I know it's a popular "tradition" but is it just me or is that, like, way inappropriate, given the occasion?
Anyway, I limited myself to a single Summitt Pale Ale-very delicious, especially considering the hot temps. So all in all-a pleasant enough experience. Very little was asked of us, except to congregate down near a lake after dark, and they had an enormous fireworks display which was probably obscenely expensive, but thoroughly enjoyable.
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