I love weddings.
I just got back from one where they threw the bride and the groom in the air. It’s a tradition in Argentina, they told me. The wedding was in New York State.
I had two favorite parts. The bride led a breakneck conga line. Then there was the happy decision by those still celebrating at 3 a.m. to admit a completely unrelated bridal group into their party room. Someone rang the room of the original bride and the groom who had long since gone to bed. “You’ve been replaced,” they said.
I love the speeches. At my nephew’s wedding, the brother of the bride delivered Bill Pullman’s speech from Independence Day. It brought the house down. Didn’t have a whole lot to do with the bride and groom. Nobody cared..
Anything goes at weddings. People who hobble in on walkers teem onto the Dance Floor with the first staccato notes of YMCA. Quiet people talk your ear off. All the kids are cute, all the bridesmaids, draped in exotic, impermeable fabrics, sparkle.
I’m going to a wedding this weekend. It is in South Carolina. Kristen is getting married.
She is the daughter of Ron Wilson, the new Leafs coach.
I will bring you periodic dispatches, a wedding travelogue of the journey and the destination. A finer-hockey themed wedding, I will never visit.
Look for updates.