....
Did I get off the bus at the wrong stop? Did I miss my flight? Maybe I should have taken that right at Albuquerque after all! Then again I just might be the poster child for Irving's "Rip Van Winkle." It seems that lately I've experiencing life like Brendan Fraser's character in " Blast From The Past."
....It's as if I went to bed one night in one world, but woke up in another. I think Rod Serling has been inspired to write the script for my posting today. You know, sometimes it does seem like that sign post up ahead says "Twilight Zone."
What seems to be his major malfunction, you might be asking? Well, truth be told, it is a far cry from a major crisis that inflicts me. Indeed, it is no crisis at all! Then, what the heck am I spouting off about, you ask?
It can probably be summarily explained as that of the middle-aged doldrums, a mere case of being behind the times. Ah, so that's the rub isn't it? What is it now, you ask? Technology? Moral values? The cost of living, or the prohibitive cost of dying?
No, it's nothing as significant as those. It is certainly something that can be dealt with by going with the flow. I have just been trying to put my finger on which phase of the moon, which decade, or which man was in the White House that these things changed, no evolved.
....As some of you well know, my only daughter will be getting married in October of this year. Don't say it, I know that daughters get married all the time. Though she is special to me, and why wouldn't she be, I know that she is one of many daughters getting married every day all over the globe. It was inevitable that she'd leave home someday.
Tell me, just when did happen that wedding showers became formal affairs? When did they start renting halls for showers? Other than those in the bridal party, since when do non-family attend wedding showers? Have I been caught up in some time time vortex or something? (I could ask the same questions regarding proms too. Our proms were held in the gyms or in the auditoriums of our schools. But hotels and function halls?) I'm talking about people who are invited to the wedding, such as her boss' wife, whom she has never met attending her shower. I'm talking about the wife of the security guard at her office complex coming to the shower. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against bosses, their wives, security guards and their wives, and I do not begrudge them the right, but why would they want to come? It isn't mandatory or necessary, so why would they want to come?
....My wife submitted to me, I don't know why, the menu for this up-coming shower. For my approval? Let's see there is pot roast, scalloped potatoes, and green beans with rolls and butter. There will also be hors d'oeuvres, of course. Sure, why not? As would be suspected, except by me, there will be dessert and coffee.
....Oh yeah, how could I forget another unexpected ingredient? Me! I'm to be there too? By the way, the husbands of the wedding party and husbands of the other wives will be there too - at a wedding shower! So when I said to my wife, "Oh! It's a Jack and Jill shower. Why didn't you say so in the first place?" She responded emphatically, "No. This was nothing like a Jack and Jill shower!!" (I decided not ask what the difference might be.)
....Color me confused. Color me behind the times. Color me? Hell, throw a whole bucket of paint on me! Am I wrong, people? Is this really the way it is for all showers nowadays? Is everyone else ahead of the curve while I have stalled in the driveway?
....What ever happened to living rooms and dining rooms? What ever happened to finger sandwiches and chip and dip? Why aren't the men gathered together elsewhere, watching the ball game and staying out of the way?
Our wedding shower, as much of a surprise to my wife-to-be as it was to those in attendance, was in the basement. With table cloths covering the plywood atop a pool table, there was indeed a spread. There were four fondu pots going, (fondu was the rage then) there were five different kinds of finger sandwiches, chip and dip with homemade onion dip, and a large bowl of vodka laced with orange juice, cranberry juice and grape juice - what we called back then, punch!
....I was there, after all I was the groom-to-be, and it had been my job to keep her away from her own house until the specified hour. I was the only male there. Her father had bailed out to go clamming, leaving me in the midst of my fiancee, two of her cousins, her three aunts, two nieces, her godmother, her two sisters-in-law, four friends, and of course I dare not to forget my future mother-in-law.
....We received some nice gifts, among which were 2 bread boxes, 3 toasters, 2 blenders, 2 clock radios, (analog) some towels for the bath and kitchen, bed linen, a tire with a note 3 more were coming for her car, and finally a white satin three piece wedding night set. (I was only allowed to the see the gown. The other two pieces would not be seen until the wedding night.)
....I'm sure you really weren't interested in our wedding shower gifts anyway. I mentioned them because of the duplicates, which over the years came in handy as replacements. I must admit that my daughter's shower will be better as far as gifts are concerned. Registries! My daughter won't be getting 3 toasters, that's for sure!
Just as I am beginning to get acclimated to the concept of the modern shower, I was knocked off my feet when I brought in the mail recently.
It was an invitation to a ...Are you ready for this? ...A divorce shower!!!
(Cues up 3 Dog Night: I seen so many things I ain't seen before. Don't know what it is, I don't wanna see no more... Mama told me not to come ... Mama told me not to come...
No.282
2 comments:
I think your daughter also found your address book from your computer as we got an e-mail from her. Tell her thanks for inviting the wife and I to her shower. We will be there with bells on, bearing toasters as gifts. And bring your 3 Dog Night CD, we'll bring the onion dip.
I could make a few choice comments about the divorce showers, but I will refrain from being cynical about love gone down the drain. whooosh - a giant flushing sound... I'm gone
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