A Nice Day for a White Wedding

First and foremost, I regret that this post took so long to find it’s way on Zillionaire. Truthfully, I was actually forbidden from writing about our wedding, as Jeannette didn’t want my sad attempts at humor to detract from The Best Man’s thoughtful and glowing piece about our wedding. Apparently I had unwittingly forfeited my first amendment rights somewhere in our wedding vows. I just hope I didn’t lose my right to habeas corpus… that would really be devastating. Anyway, with the help of some human rights groups, my right to freedom of speech has been restored, and here are some post wedding thoughts…

The festivities kicked off on Thursday night with a big crab barbecue followed by a drunken bonfire on the beach. Earlier in the evening, Ryan had been casually introduced to my family as the minister performing our ceremony. During the bonfire it was pretty hilarious watching my aunts raise their eyebrows as he nonchalantly broke about 7 Commandments in the span of 15 minutes. At one point, he began alternating chugs of beer, puffs on his cigar, and guzzling tequila straight from the bottle. Finally, Kim approached me to voice her concern.

Kim: “Where did you find this guy?”
Me: “Oh, don’t worry, he promised he’d be sober during our ceremony.”

Of course, I eventually explained that Ryan wasn’t a real minister; he was a friend of mine that had been ordained online, specifically to perform our wedding ceremony. And thusly, as an e-minister, his behavior would be as unregulated as the Internet itself.

In all seriousness though, not enough has been made about Ryan’s amazing job as our minister. Honestly, I can’t imagine anyone delivering a better performance. Looking back, I’m glad I tuned out that little voice in my head (common sense) and opted for Ryan’s services. These are some actual excerpts from an email I sent Julie back in December when I was deliberating over whether to ask Ryan to do the job.

My Email to Julie:
“carba, i’m debating something possibly insane:
we are having a hard time finding a person to perform the marriage ceremony. since neither of us belongs to a church it is somewhat problematic… the idea being floated right now, brace yourself, is to have ryan become an online minister and perform the ceremony…”

Julie’s Response: “yes you are insane. however, if anyone could do it you are right, ryan could.”

And as they say, the rest is history. It was easily the best decision we made in regards to the wedding. In fact, after his stellar performance, Ryan was asked by an engaged couple attending our wedding to conduct their ceremony as well. Several of our guests approached me wondering which congregation he led. I generally responded as follows…

My Reaction (suppressing a laugh): “Sorry, he’s not the leader of a church… However, I do know of a few bars he’s a regular at…”

The biggest surprise during our ceremony was the fact that my wife managed to make it through without crying. Knowing her, it wasn’t a matter of whether she’d cry, but rather how many Brawny paper towels would be needed to absorb the waterworks. To fully comprehend this stunning turn of events, you need to understand the emotional geyser that I live with. For instance, my wife can unfailingly be found in tears whenever she watches The Lifetime Channel, The Gilmore Girls, and even Applebee’s commercials. (You know the one I’m talking about, where the Applebee’s waitress asks the retiring basketball coach to help her hang a picture in their restaurant. Unbeknownst to the coach, it is really a picture of him celebrating his coaching legacy… Go ahead, get some Kleenex…)

Of course, when something truly sentimental occurs, like our wedding day, my wife is somehow able to summon a poker face that would make Johnny Chan fold pocket aces. I remember standing opposite her, reading my vows, just waiting for an emotional meltdown. Half of her bridesmaids were crying, yet, she maintained her countenance. Honestly, I’ve seen cigar-store Indians convey more emotion.

At first I didn’t give it a second thought, but on our honeymoon “Old Faithful” was back to her old self. We had HBO in our hotel suite, and we happened to catch the last ten minutes of “Spiderman” and Disney’s “The Rookie” one night. Jeannette cried at each. I just shook my head in disbelief.

Even I was truly astonished by what happened at the end of our honeymoon. On the return flight from Cancun to Philadelphia, they showed the movie “Johnson Family Vacation,” starring Cedric the Entertainer and ‘Lil Bow Wow. Obviously, this movie is hardly a tearjerker. I opted to read a book during the flight, but my wife couldn’t resist slapping on the airline headphones. There happened to be a lot of people on this particular flight that absolutely loved this movie. In fact, our airplane closely resembled a night at the Apollo Theater, as passengers erupted with laughter and fell out of their seats with every pelvic-thrusting gyration dance that Cedric would perform.

Apparently, at the end of the movie, the Johnson family pulled together and resolved their differences in heartwarming fashion during their family picnic. I glanced over, and Jeannette had tears running down her cheeks. To reiterate, Jeannette managed to cry at a movie featuring Cedric the Entertainer and ‘Lil Bow Wow, but not at our wedding. Unbelievable.

Here’s the final twist in this saga… We recently got our wedding pictures developed. Jeannette can look at a mere snapshot of us reciting our wedding vows, and unfailingly cry on command. It’s uncanny.

With that off my chest, I’d like to discuss a moment that will never be spoken of again. I’m not sure exactly how these events transpired, but through hypnosis I’ve been able to piece this together from a bunch of repressed memories. I was dancing with Jeannette on our wedding night, when Jonas sauntered over and asked to “cut in.” As a gentleman, I happily obliged. To my chagrin, Jonas used this opportunity to slow dance with me. Thankfully, it didn’t last long, as his only intention was to violate me on the dance floor. Jonas pulled me in close, spun me around so my back was to the crowd and then began exaggerated groping for the amusement of our wedding guests. With both hands, Jonas kneaded my butt cheeks like he was working pizza dough. (I extend my sincerest apologies for providing that mental image.)

Finally, one bonus wedding memory…
Perhaps the highlight of the evening occurred on the dance floor sometime after midnight. About twenty people had formed a circle on the dance floor, clapping and cheering as individuals took turns in the middle showcasing their best dance moves. Soon, it became apparent that this was evolving into a competition. Like the conclusion of so many classic 80’s movies, I can’t tell you how pleased I was to see that our wedding would end in a dance-off.

Several people took turns in the middle, but it was clear this battle royale would come down to two heavyweights. Cage went first, delving into classic 80’s dance moves, executing a flawless Moonwalk and concluding the move with the Robot. Krusty wasted little time, marching onto the dance floor and performing his signature move. Dropping down into the splits, he went forward, backward, and down the middle, all to the rhythm of the music. Cage could sense Krusty was a worthy adversary, so he countered with his best move: The Worm. And with it, the gauntlet had been thrown down.

Everyone now turned to Krusty. “How could he top that?” the crowd wondered in unison. Krusty and I made eye contact. He nodded assuredly, as if to say, “Normally I wouldn’t do this, but since it’s your wedding…”

And then it happened. Krusty trotted into the middle, steadily gathering the requisite speed needed to perform a HEADSPIN on the dance floor. Jaws dropped. The floor creaked. His spine contorted, but did not give way to paralysis. It was an amazing spectacle to behold. I’ve known Krusty for a long time, and have witnessed some pretty spectacular feats, but I had no idea he could break dance. I haven’t talked to him about it, but I like to think that he spent months undergoing rigorous break dancing lessons so that he could bust out a headspin on my wedding night. These are the kind of wedding gifts you just can’t register for…

Finally, thank you to all who came to celebrate the best day this Zillionaire has ever had. Paraphrasing my wedding toast, “I’ve got the greatest family and the greatest friends anyone could ever hope for…”

Here are a few sites with some various wedding pics, enjoy. And thanks to those individuals that took the pics and maintain the sites…

Ryan Alexander
Matt Dyk
Internet Zillionaire (DA)

Don’t Make Me Puke

Dear Matt and Jeannette,

I’ve known you two for a long time and I’ve always felt like you two were a great match. True, there have been some ups and downs, but I think you both came to realize that it is your similarities and differences which makes your relationship thrive. You both love to laugh and almost more importantly, love to make each other laugh. You both challenge each other to grow, think, and explore all the boundless opportunities that life has to offer. On behalf of everyone that attended your spectacular wedding, I say congratulations on a near perfect night and a huge thank you for letting us taste the joy and happiness that you two radiated.

The night had the best of both worlds, a truly romantic marriage ceremony where your honest, heart-felt vows echoed not only in our hearts but carried out over the blue waves and the green hills of the San Juans. I think I saw two seagulls mating out of the corner of my eye as you two exchanged words. Love was really in the air. I am a cynical, cold-hearted bastard and even I almost cried when I stopped figiting and listened to the lyrics of the song that you had chosen to be played. “One, two, three, four, he counts the steps… but it doesn’t really help, he still steps on her toes.” It’s so weird how a song written by someone else for some other purpose was so perfect for the two of you, for right then. Ryan did a tremendous job showing you two off and conducting the ceremony as well, a nice blend of personal and formal, religious and non-sectarian. Seriously, coming from me, that is a huge compliment.

And the night was capped with one of the funnest dance parties I’ve ever been too. Young and younger graced the dancefloor with a carefree attitude, the mark of a true celebration. The reception was just that, a grand opportunity to celebrate as family and friends, to reconnect, to let go of the some of the worries, insecurities, and problems that isolate us all from time to time, to let loose and have fun. So many weddings get bogged down in making sure all the details are taken care of, but lose sight of the real reason for the gathering. I can honestly say you two did both marvelously. I think that speaks volumes for the life you two will share together.

Your friend,
Dave

ps. Although your vows and promises to each other were beautiful, I think you didn’t hit on a few things that might be pertinent. I would add:

Matt (pointing to xbox): Do you Jeannette, take this xbox to be your nemesis, in sickness and in health, for as long as you shall live?
Jeannette: I do.

Jeannette: Do you Matt, accept this vice on your gonads attached to this remote control that I have in my hand, for as long as you shall live?
Matt: (pauses… then doubles over in pain) I do! I do! I do!

The Best Man Rings In

First off, as a single man I am really having a hard time getting my head around all these posts about the details of getting married. I thought weddings were born when a stork flew a sweet, giggling little wedding cake wrapped in a snuggly soft blanket to a happily waiting couple, arms stretched wide to receive the bundle of joy. Oh well, I guess that is just where babies come from…

Secondly, as the best man I feel I must chime in a few of my own thoughts for this occasion. I’ll just put them in a power-point friendly bulleted list for your reading pleasure:

  • All the world shed a tear the day we found out that you didn’t put “Pee-wee” or “McSex” as a nickname for yourself on the wedding invitations. If you are trying to move on, put those names behind you, forge a more adult persona for yourself then I say fine, do that after the wedding. I almost threw the invite away (the first time) because, at first glance, I didn’t recognize any of the names on it. If McSex is good enough for the whole world on Xbox Live, why not among your closest kin and friends?
  • The least you could do to pay me back for all the hard work of getting the bachelor party organized is wear the bonerface shirt I made for you as you and Jeannette ride off into the sunset.
  • Speaking of embarking on the honeymoon, is it too much to ask that you bring the MR2 out of retirement for the final gettaway? I know I’d like to recreate your senior picture moment one more time! This time with you in your bonerface shirt, Jeannette in your old letterman’s jacket, and you’re both leaning in, resting your elbows on that shiny red spoiler! Seriously, why didn’t we give you more crap for that back in the day?
  • From the commentary on zillionaire so far, I think I speak for all the groomsman when I express just how much we are looking forward to our traditional groomsman gift. Judging from your zeal for questioning the smallest of Jeannette’s expenditures (debating with her about the cost of postage, envelopes, even paper for god’s sake) I can only assume we are each going to get a) a quarter to put in the nearest almond, jawbreaker, or gumball machine; b) whatever was on sale at the local closeout liquidator grocery store, i.e. unopened bottles of red dye number 6; or the cleverly parental c) good feeling and a pat on the back. Well, I guess those are better than nothing.
  • Please, god forbid, make a spectacle. You’ll come up with something in this department, I know you will, but in case your lacking for ideas, I’ll give you a couple. For instance, instead of having Ryan standing up at the podium when you and Jeannette walk down the aisle, have an organ grinder and a monkey up there working the crowd a bit. Then poof, a cloud of smoke envelopes them, the wedding march starts and as the smoke dissapates Ryan will be magically standing there, but in the monkey’s costume. Or better yet, when Ryan is leading you in your vows, turn to me (again as the best man) and do a motion with your hand like Ryan is jabbering on. You know, that motion where your hand looks like a duck quacking. And then roll your eyes. Then, lean in to me a little, whisper something into my ear and then put your hands together like they are a pillow next to your head and pretend to fall asleep. If I just told the world the routine you already had rehearsed I apologize.

Lastly, of course, I would like to congratulate you and Jeannette and wish you both the best. It has been said that a true zillionaire never settles down, but you are going to be an exception to the rule my good friend.

Save the Date Cards

Final installment of pre-wedding thoughts…

As you’ve probably gathered from my previous posts, I’m generally not allowed to contribute ideas for our wedding. You see, my fiance tends to prefer sane, rational opinions and ideas for our big day. All of my suggestions, like the “Arby’s Sauce Fountain” and the “Gigantic Wedding Churro” (in place of a wedding cake) have been quickly shot down. Following my fiancé’s condemnation of my ideas, I usually just accept the situation, un-pause my XBox game, and return to saving the universe.

However, I was particularly adamant in my opposition to Save-the-Date cards. Naturally, I was still overridden, but I thought I would share the story anyway…

Save-the-date cards:
Essentially, these cards are sent to our guests months before our actual invitations, to remind them that a formal invitation is forthcoming, and they should make arrangements now to “save the date” for our wedding day. Apparently, we are worried that our guests will treat our first few direct mailings as junk mail, and therefore we need to deluge them with wedding advertisements months in advance. Like any other summertime blockbuster, our wedding demands the requisite hype. Billboards, radio spots, tabloid rumors… evidently we’ll do whatever it takes to generate the proper buzz to get people to attend our wedding.

I really pleaded with my fiancé not to send out save-the-date cards. It just feels so pathetic. Essentially, we’re acknowledging to our guests, in writing, that we fully expect our wedding to lose out in any scheduling conflict that may arise. And so, we’re asking them, months in advance, to not schedule a dentist appointment or plan on pumping the septic tank during our wedding weekend. Hey, we completely understand that our wedding is so low on their list of priorities that we need to preemptively beg them to keep the date free. To me, these cards just sent the wrong message.

Thusly, I suggested we send out “We Don’t Care If You Come” cards to our guests in advance, and perhaps invoke a little reverse psychology. If we quit acting so desperate, maybe people would willingly set aside the date without our groveling. Of course, my confrontational approach to wedding invitations was vetoed, and the sniveling save-the-date cards were mailed out instead.

Alright, that’s it for the pre-wedding thoughts…

Ok, wait… one more. C’mon people, the Wedding Churro! We need to get some grassroots support of this idea to bring it to fruition. I suggest a letter writing campaign to your elected officials, followed by some direct action, perhaps a band of pro-churro demonstrators could block the entrance to our wedding or something.

This idea came about a few months ago when I was looking for a creative alternative to the traditional wedding cake. A friend of mine works at Nestle, and I inquired about the logistics of serving a giant Baby Ruth bar instead of a wedding cake. We could have had the best of both worlds: Serving a gigantic, delicious dessert and being featured in the Guinness Book of World Records. Not surprisingly, shattering a world record for the “Largest Dessert at a Wedding Function or Bar Mitzvah” was not a priority for Jeannette on her wedding day.

Thankfully, inspiration struck again during my recent trip to Disneyland. Everywhere I looked I saw people indulging in crowd-pleasing desserts like sno-cones and ice cream sandwiches, and nobody was eating wedding cake. Passing by an otherwise ordinary food stand on my way to the Haunted Mansion it hit me like a bolt of lightning… THE WEDDING CHURRO! Instead of a traditional, run-of-the-mill wedding cake, we serve portions of one enormous churro to our guests. I immediately shared my stroke of brilliance with my traveling companions and it was met with great enthusiasm… (Ok, just Krusty thought it was a good idea.) Anyway, let’s face it, the churro is generally the most underrated and least celebrated dessert out there. Frankly, I’ve always been a huge fan of the churro, and it’s definitely long overdue for a moment in the sun. So please, fellow Zillionaires, I’m asking you to stage a hunger strike, light yourself on fire, or something else equally self-destructive to help raise awareness for the Wedding Churro. With your help, hopefully it will be a massive churro Jeannette and I cut into on Saturday night…

That’s really it for the pre-wedding thoughts… I’m looking forward to seeing all the Zillionaires this weekend…

Wedding Registry

Still more pre-wedding thoughts…

While registering for gifts is generally one of the best things about being married, I simply lack the requisite physical stamina it takes to endure a day at the department store. Thankfully, my wedding registry experience only lasted eight minutes. All I remember is the store being really hot. It was like being in a greenhouse, shopping for saunas. Within five minutes of being in the store, I was literally suffering from heat stroke. I couldn’t discern one chrome melonballer from the next due to the proliferation of sweat rolling down my brow. I desperately tried not to pass out, as my fiancé really wanted to hear my opinions on the desired handle color of the aforementioned melonballer. Obviously, very few men can withstand this grueling process, aside from the marathon runners and mountain climbers that like to build up their endurance by registering for flatware patterns at the Bon.

I could tell this experience was wearing on Jeannette too. She hadn’t anticipated that my opinions would not be based on the style of the items we were registering for, but rather, whether we needed them in the first place. For the same reason that my fiancé is not consulted in regards to what games are needed in our XBox library, I have no business deciding the color scheme of our potholders. And clearly, after the “Spoonrest Incident”, Jeannette had no desire to spend the afternoon justifying the presence of every crystal gravy boat and velvet throw pillow on our registry to a man with the cultural refinement of a Fear Factor contestant.

Of course, women see all of these items as absolute necessities. Every female in the universe is convinced they need an 84-piece place setting in the event the Pope, the Sultan of Brunei, and the cast of Friends all stop by for servings of ball-shaped pieces of melon. Thankfully, I have a solution…

Now, I rarely have ideas worthy of taking credit for, so here goes: The Sears registry. In all modesty, registering at Sears was possibly the greatest stroke of pragmatism I’ve ever had. Each item on the Sears registry is equally practical and manly, and it completely offsets the delicate house wares from the Bon. Selecting weedwackers and garden hoses from Sears have enabled us to do the impossible: Achieve gender equity within our gift registry. The only way to possibly improve on this idea would be to register at Home Depot, so that items like grass sod, chain-link fencing and lumber would also show up on the gift table at the wedding.

Maybe the only drawback to the registry process is the ridiculous amount of packing material that our gifts are wrapped in once they are shipped to us. I’m pretty certain that our wedding is single handedly supporting the entire Styrofoam peanut industry. By far, the Bon is the biggest offender, as they literally mummify their merchandise in Styrofoam peanuts and bubble wrap. I suppose that is a good thing, as the shipping department at the Bon handles our flatware as delicately as weapons-grade plutonium. One the other hand, there’s something truly wrong when live organs are shipped more haphazardly than the items on our registry.

Anyway, under these circumstances, a few gifts’ worth of obscene amounts of packing material can easily consume your home. Our house is completely overrun at this point, it’s almost as if the Styrofoam is somehow reproducing. In a moment of desperation, I actually suggested that Jeannette find some miscellaneous fabric and use the Styrofoam peanuts to make us some giant beanbag furniture (this is true). As you can see, we’ve clearly achieved a full-blown Styrofoam-related crisis at our house…

More to come…