The Shell of a Wedding and The Substance of a Marriage − 23 May, 2007
I recently read an article about the absurdity of planning for a wedding. It described how even the most not traditional and easygoing person could get caught up in the wedding cyclone. That place where you find yourself in agony trying to decide if you should got with the white or ivory colored linens. I was one of those people. I thought that getting married at 33 afforded me the luxury of watching everyone else make mistakes that I wouldn’t make. I was wrong. When we started planning our wedding, I was so optimistic about getting things done efficiently and without arguing. There were two variables that I failed to consider; first, family will shame you into doing what they want if you let them, second, the wedding industry does not expect you to be a repeat customer. They have one shot to squeeze you out of ever cent you have, all under the guise of “you don’t want to skimp on your wedding do you, you only do it once”. Then you feel like a total jerk if you do. The issue I have with this wedding “fantasy” is the feeling people are entering into marriage thinking the fantasy will continue. Not that I’m the foremost authority on marriage, but I get the feeling that people just don’t know what the hell they are getting into. Never more was the total fantasy of “a wedding” more apparent than when Heather and I went to get our marriage license. The marriage license is the one thing that you HAVE to get in order to get married. Whether you are rich or poor this is a requirement. We chose to get our marriage license at the Fontana City Library. We chose the library because they offer later operating hours during the week. We arrived around 6:00pm. As we walked through the doors, there was a smell wafted bringing back memories of being in libraries as a kid. With a quick scan of the room I observed a paternity class being held right in the middle of the room, kids playing and laughing in the left corner of the room, books sparsely scattered on a handful of bookshelves, and two other couples at the Recorders desk who appeared to be there for the same reason. That old “budget” carpet lay underneath us and you could see the worn tracks that lead us to the Recorders desk. We got in line behind one other couple that was already speaking with someone behind the desk. Another woman asked if she could help us and we of course replied that we needed to get a marriage license. The other couples seemed to size us up with an expression of awareness of comradery and curiousness. I got the feeling that they were excited for us and wanted to know how we had somehow gotten to the same place they had. The lady behind the desk directed us to a computer and told us to enter in our information. We sat down and quickly realized that the computer, which looked like it was about 10 years old, was broken. The screen was completely black. We were then instructed to fill out a form by hand, but we would have to find our own pen because they didn't have one. Heather and I couldn't help but laugh at all the chaos that was going on around us. We got through the form and were instructed to raise our right hands. We then took an oath given by the Librarian. This too was funny. After we left I felt a great appreciation for the experience we had. I realized that of all the things that we had to plan for the wedding, the one thing that we couldn't be without is the marriage license. Take away the dress, the chair covers, the cake, the DJ, etc. but you can't take away the license. Everything else is a shell. Plus the surrounding in which we got ours seemed to be a better representation of our life together. Life and relationships are not perfect, much like the Fontana Public Library. I will cherish this memory forever.
