Not because they are getting married. That is a good thing. I suppose that is why they are nervous, but my affliction is a little more personal. I am officiating the wedding.
I’ve seen a lot and done more than I should have, but this is new to me. I am not a minister, rather not a “real” minister, but an internet ordained Grand Poo-bah Cardinal Puff-puff sort of thing. They approached me and asked if I would consider performing the ceremony, and as ego and pompous asses such as myself are prone to doing, I said yes without realizing what it was I was getting myself into.
That’s not to say I regret it. I am honored. It’s just that the closer we come to the actual wedding, the more ominous the blank pages of my “sermon” are becoming. I hoped that the couple would throw me a bone, maybe a favorite writer or performer that I could work in to the act. Nope. Apparently they don’t read and their musical tastes run along the punk lines, which is not a problem, except it is hard finding words of wisdom and passion that aren’t laced with other sentiments that Aunt Edna has probably never heard before, and I sure as hell am not the one to introduce them to her.
That leaves me with a nice suit, a sweet new cut and nothing to say. Well, nothing appropriate. I’ve been threatening to use the intro to “Let’s Go Crazy” by Prince as the basis of my spiel, and sadly, it’s looking better and better.
There are several websites that have suggested readings, and I’m partial to incorporating something from a children’s book (they have a small daughter) as the passages are usually simple and precise and often as touching and beautiful as any poem might be. The Velveteen Rabbit and Pooh’s Corner being the two I’ve happened upon the most.
If you have any suggestions, please lay them on me.
In the meantime, I’ll put on my suit and practice looking like I’m deep, wise, and the extinguisher of hellfire.