Weddings

Have you been watching the shenanigans of the Sydney Semi-Mayor who illegally shut down a suburban street and issued 'Remove your Car' notices to residents and cancelled soccer games so his once blonde, now brunette, once Alice now Anthony - or something, I don't really remember her name, Bride to be could be driven along without impediment except for the cars of the millions of invited guests and so helicopters could land? If you haven't seen the actual footage, then imagine Tom Cruise in a Mission Impossible scene before the big fight at the end.

The scuttle just keeps exploding. Now there's stuff about his criminal dad and some law suit for millions over a dress and downsizing apartments in a new project he's sorting so that they are the size of luxury ensuites. Most of it has nothing to do with the actual wedding, but makes for excellent tellie.

Anyway all this palaver got me thinking. There is nearly always drama at weddings isn't there? I suppose in anything that takes so much planning, there is bound to be something that goes a little awry, perhaps not always $30,000 wedding dress awry but some little oopsie amid all the details. I am reminded of Charlotte's second wedding in Sex in the City.

The day before I got married at the ripe old age of 19, I was at the oldies place and Dad, not ever known for his tact, rang the soon to be father in law, to get his final RSVP. Information was not forthcoming, so Dad called him a dickhead and slammed the phone down. Yeh that was back in the day when such satisfaction could be won from slamming down the receiver. Pushing 'end call' just doesn't have the same ring to it. Dad was a stickler for all things pomp and ceremony and wanted the day to be perfect. An unfinalised seating plan was driving him nuts. Not that this is an excuse. He often called lots of people dickheads and worse.

Anyway minutes later the soon to be FIL rocketed up stomping along the front verandah, and smashed open the front door. He punched Dad in the head and only backed off as I reached for the phone to call the police. We managed to close the door on him as he continued to rant about being called a wog - I think his Spanish heritage really gave him the shits cos it's hard to mishear wog for dickhead, and then he went into a bigger rant about how I wasn't a virgin and that his son and I had been having it off at every opportunity. We were 19 after all, what did he expect? Soon enough he became bored with screaming at the door and mooched off, leaving us none the wiser about the seating plan.

I imagine that my soon to be husband's last night at home was none too pleasant.

The Big Day dawned bright and beautiful and stinky hot. Worries abounded about the outcome of the wog/dickhead saga.

He and the second wife were at the church looking like thunder. There was a court order that prohibited him from owning a gun, no I did not just make that up, and as I walked up passed him I was hoping he hadn't managed to get one on the black market.

Everyone figured that he had just put in an appearance and that the reception would be a step too far even for him.

2 burly mates of Dad in full evening dress, had however been prepped for possible trouble and unceremoniously threw the now Father in law out on his sorry behind and as he was going he was yelling to all the Spanish and Italian guests that Wogs weren't welcome.

It was quite the drama.

It made the lippy mark someone left all over the front of my white frock look unimportant. It made the wilting of the flowers in the 35 degree heat unimportant. It made the fact that my sister had refused to attend unimportant. It made the fact that the ensuing delay meant that the photos were taken in the garden, in the semi-dark with all of us bravely smiling through the swarming midges  and it somehow justified Dad and I sitting in the change room in my 'Going away outfit', downing a bottle of champers - the good stuff, and getting a bit giggly.

So here's the thing, if there is a really big drama on the big day, then that's a good thing, cos there will be some little ooopsies but they won't even be noticed after the Big thing.

And as for the Semi-Mayor, I am hoping that the big bad thing is still out there waiting for him, and I hope that his wait is not a long on.