Wandering Aimlessly

From the Palatine Countryside, Pioneer Press.
By Nancy Robinson

Wedding bells are ringing everwhere this season -- including in the movie theatres where "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" has become a blockbuster hit.

Rick and I have attended three weddings in the past month and are actively involved in the planning of a fourth, my neice Courtenay's.

'Slim WASP Wedding'

But our upcoming family nuptials will represent the flip side of the Greek wedding story, which, because of the low number of guests and home location, we have dubbed "Our Rather Slim WASP Wedding." The Greek family in the movie, however, has nothing on us in terms of drama and potential conflict!

In the interest of dispelling cinematic and cultural myths about the bland, colorless nature of WASP celebrations, allow me to describe the players in our pending party.

Because of her profession, I will begin with the mother of the groom whose real name is Aloha. SHe is a wedding consultant in Texas, land of BIG weddings Texan-style, big hair and, apparently, big expectations. Poor Aloha. She is a weaver of fairy tale dreams by trade who has been thrust into what she must now consider a nightmare.

Aloha, quite naturally, wants glamour, tradition and decorum for her youngest child's wedding. She also cannot tolerate even a whiff of cigarettesmoke and is not overly fond of animals. Now let's contrast ALoha with the mother of the bride, my bookish sister Ellen, whose house is more or less an animal sanctuary. Most of the woodwork is rather well-chewed. Ellen is the first to admit that she is the antithesis of glamour.

She hates clothes shopping, is allergic to makeup and jewelry and sports rubber flip flops year round (sometimes I question our genetic connection). She also smokes, as does the bride. Aloha has been worrying about whether her lovely sea foam green, sequined dress will clash with my sister's dress, especially in photos.

Courtenay had to gently break the news to her that Ellen has not worn a dress in 30 years, and we will be lucky to get her into leather foot coverings for the occasion. She also will not be photographed if she can help it. Aloha is visualizing etched monogrammed stemware, ribbons, doves and a proper romantic send-off. Ellen is worrying about how to keep her 11 cats from fighting while all the guests are in her house.

Then we have the father of the groom, divorced many years ago from Aloha, who is flying in from California with his second wife. He does not, for religious reasons, approve of alcohol, homosexuality or secular wedding ceremonies. Contrast him with some of our guests for whom strong drink is a religion, as well as our middle-aged gay couple (lifelong partners) who we have been euphemistically referring to as the uncles. The bride and groom have also chosen a judge rather than a minister to perform the ceremony.

Among the 30-odd (no pun intended) guests will be three octogenarians, one spunky, who still chops her own firewood in Washington state and two with dementia. The female with dementia will most likely be the life of the party, dancing all night long even though wea re not having dancing (no room). The male may be problematic. He is frequently incontinent and has, on occasion, spontaneously watered the potted plants. Somebody will have to keep an eye on him.

My daughter, Claire, will be the maid of honor and her boyfriend from California, Bob, a crack amateur photographer and wine connoisseur, had graciously offered to be the official photographer and wine server, but Claire broke up with him yesterday. (They still have time to reconcile before the event, however).

We have hired a family friend who is a culinary school graduate and restaurant professional to help with the dinner, which is a great relief to my sister who had her hypertension medication increased last week. The chef, however, has not yet been told about the one cat, Millie, who never leaves the stove area. The flowers have been ordered, but they cannot be delivered and arranged until immediately before the dinner because the cats will eat them.

Longtime readers may remember that we hosted Courtenay's first wedding 10 years ago in our back yard (in the gazebo that was built but not finished and painted until hours before the ceremony). This one is a piece of cake for me compared to that one which still gives me hives when I think about it.

But not to worry! I told my sister that i Have stocked up on plenty of Windex to take care of any outbreaks this time around!