Why do we do it? Is it because backyard crickets set off some sort of alarm that wakes up our senses and the outside air smells intoxicatingly seductive? Is intoxicatingly even a word? I don't know why we do it but it's been going on forever. Daredevils, what'd you think I was talking about? I always say, "summer...some are crazy and some are hot." People drive faster, live harder and take more chances in the summer. It sure was a lot more fun being a daredevil when I didn't have to worry about other daredevils. I don't think Evel Knievel would have jumped cars if he had his son on the back end of the motorcycle! So I've mellowed to let the next generation drive me nuts with worry.
Yesterday, I thought hard and heavy about the reasons we do this. It was Saturday morning and I had two weddings to attend. The first one started at 12:30 and my only job was to bring the eight boutineers, five corsages, two bouquets and one bridal bouquet. Easy because all the flowers were bought the night before and they were in the upstairs bedroom with the airconditioner cranked on high and the door closed. I bought ice in the morning for the cooler and relaxed a little too long with coffee. Before I knew it, the clock said 9:30 and I hadn't even started! If it was winter time, maybe I would have made the bows the night before and wired all the stems. My nerves were shot and to top things off, my husband said he wasn't riding with me to deliver flowers out in the boonies somewhere. Who in the hell was going to hold the centerpiece that was filled with water and delicate roses? Fine, I wasn't ironing his suit pants for the other afternoon wedding! Thank God for daughters. The two of us sped off faster than I care to admit all the while repeating the words, "why do I do this? why do I do this!" We arrived in time to pin the flowers with shaky hands and the look on the bride's face was worth every bit of stress.
Wedding Number Two
It was now 1:10 p.m. Instead of showering while I was at the first wedding, Bill decided to wait until I came home and jump in front of me for a 2:00 wedding that we'd both be attending. We were the last to be seated, but we made it. Then I noticed his awful pants! Oh my God they hadn't been ironed, in fact they were just wierd looking. "Where are your suit pants?" I asked.
"They're too uncomfortable, so I picked these," he said. The nerve and how very daring especially when I was already mad, to wear faded gross pants. The reception was being held at a very beautiful hotel and I was mortified. Everyone had flown in from all over for this.
I scanned the packed church, wondering why people even get married. Why do we do it? Summer is also the most favorite time to marry. Daredevils. You could almost hear the sound of a motorcycle reving up behind the choir's music. Then everyone stood for the bride while the spine chilling music played, da da da dee dumdum and I tried hard not to cry. The ceremony was beautiful and the priest talked about different kinds of love. It felt like a pop-quiz and I asked Bill if he needed a pen to take notes.
Catholic weddings are quite long but when the musician sang Ave Maria in Italian, it was well worth the wait. I was softening up by now and feeling very romantic when Bill leaned into me and whispered, "something must be wrong with my hearing because I can't understand anything he's saying." All of a sudden, mixed in with my laughs, his wrinkly pants looked adorable and from the waist up, he looked kind of sexy. I was glad to have married him 30 years ago having jumped into it at nineteen without thinking of the future. When I think about the Evel Knievel in all of us, all I can say is it takes one to know one.