I’m a big believer of not getting married–anyone–Gays, straights, I just don’t see the function in it. I don’t see the point. I don’t see the purpose, unless one party is a trust-fund-baby and the other is an illegal alien with good teeth–but I digress. And just when I thought my point of view was solid in its foundation backed up by statistics of husbands killing their wives, wives cheating on their husbands, and cheap wedding gifts from Target–the unthinkable happened; I witnessed a beautiful wedding ceremony and I kind of changed my mind–but only kind of.
This past Friday I was photographer/videographer/witness to my friend’s wedding. I felt nothing. I went with her to the salon as she lied and got the romance package instead of the bride’s beauty-day option because it was $200 cheaper and still…I felt nada. I accompanied her while she picked up her bridal bouquet where I argued with the florist because some of the flowers he tried to incorporate were more shriveled up than a polar bear’s testicle on crisp January afternoon–and still I felt nothing but the adrenaline rush of a good argument with an Irish man. And as I paraded after her as we walked to the Lady’s Pavilion in Central Park to start the ceremony; still…zilch.
But once the ceremony started and she and her husband-to-be exchanged vows, which encorporated their 10-year history together–and how they were making a promise to laugh together, cry together, and always keeping in mind that although they were going to share one space–they were still two people who vowed to never loose their individuality–it happened, something inside me felt warm–like when you’re about to have anonymous sex in the parking lot of a Walmart–yeah, beautiful like that–and with all the emotion and sentiment; I began to cry.
It was at that very moment that I allowed the thought of marriage to creep in. Of course, I smashed it down and made sure it stayed in that deep dark place that never sees the light of day, you know the place–it’s where my love of Bette Midler movies and old Knots Landing episodes reside. And as I stood there and watched as they each poured sand into a container to symbolize their marriage, my boyfriend, who also had a tear in his eye turned and whispered into my ear.
Boyfriend: I wanna get married and have a ceremony just like this.
Nando: Well, it means we have to be together 10 years and have a black daughter to help us pour sand into the marriage container, until then, keep it in your pants, Sparky.
What do you think about marriage? What about the idea of what makes a good union? What are the rules? Leave a comment.