Wedding Crasher

Last weekend, my friend, Cindy, asked me to go with her to a wedding in North Canton, Ohio. Her partner, Dwight, wasn't able to go, and she wanted company on the long drive up, so off we went. There's something really satisfying about going to a stranger's wedding. It's pure spectacle when you have no emotional connection to the main characters. And this was good theater. The wedding was outdoors in a pagoda on a stretch of lawn so green from spring rains that it reminded me of England. The bride and groom were so happy and good humored, laughing along with their guests when the balloons they released as a symbolic remembrance of their dearly departed rose eight or so feet and then lodged themselves in a big oak. As an outsider, I have to say it was a good ceremony.

The reception was great: a nice meal, lots of wine, a DJ, and dancing. Cindy and I sat at a table of young women who were funny and talkative, and who, later in the evening, taught me a couple of line dances. A wedding full of strangers liberates my inner dancer. The one person I knew at the wedding was Cindy, and if she was judging my moves on the dance floor, she kindly kept that to herself. As you can see in the photo below, there is a distinct difference between 20- and 30-something dance moves and Sue-moves. Alas, when you go to a wedding dressed like a college professor, you dance like a college professor.



I loosened up later when we hit the photo booth, a standard at weddings these days, complete with costume pieces like feather boas and glittery hats. And mustaches. Cindy tells me I look like the guy from Parks and Recreation. You can decide which one.



I had a great time at the strangers weddings. Right now, I couldn't tell you their names, but I can tell you that they put on a great show. This was a wedding I was happy to crash.

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