SAVE THE DATE

“We need to save the date,” Christa said.

“I thought we already did,” I said.

“You know. I mean tell our guests,” she replied.

“Shh-yeah! Of course I knew that. You always inform people about the time and place of a special event before you formally invite them to it.”

Just for fun we decided to make Save the Date announcements in the form of a ransom note. A ransom note contains exactly what is needed for informing someone to save the date.

1.      Location – so travel can be arranged

2.      Time – so you know when to arrange travel

3.      Implied exchange of object(s) of value

The ransom note format was not chosen simply to displease or rattle immediate family members, as some other activities were (muffled giggling).

The first thing we needed was a hostage. We decided that having one of us hold the other hostage didn’t make sense or create the right impression. Also, we intended to enter wedlock childless in every sense, so no shotgun theme. Rest easy, readers; we did not give away children to accomplish this. That left just one possibility, abduction by feline.

Fortunately, we owned an extremist feline. Our cat is a bastard, born into a fatherless home. He was tired of the bastard moniker and finally had a reason to lash out because of it. Christa adopted him, in a perfectly legal, paperless, basement transaction, in my presence, but to him, I was just the guy sleeping with his mom. He was named Niles Humpty Norris, after Niles Crane from Frasier. Humpty was added because I was a participant in the process—and because I believe every animal was meant to dance, although not all in the “humpty” style that Digital Underground promotes. His required daily recitals also fueled his rage. We both love him, and he loves us when it is convenient for him.

I have trouble sticking with one name for animals. I prefer to call them whatever comes to mind at the time. I hope this isn’t a problem for our future children, although I enjoy when it angers the cat. One name that stuck more than others was Mister Puddy or Mister Pu. The former rhymes with goody, if you are pronouncing it correctly. We thought it should be spelled similar to David Putty, one of Elaine’s boyfriends from Seinfeld, as Mr. Puddy seemed destined to also work at an auto dealership, eat at Arby’s, and give high fives. He would not score well on standardized tests, but that may be part personal choice.

He describes himself thusly:

I am a Gemini, with luxurious white fur and delicate black highlights. I enjoy evening walks through the garden and seafood from the can. I am a lover,—just ask my favorite accent pillow—but can be ornery when agitated. I come from a fatherless home and legally still live in one, but that will soon change. My adoptive parents seem to think I am incapable of effectively bathing myself. I am a cat; that’s disgraceful.

Now that he was older, around our age, relatively speaking, he’d decided that enough was enough and took matters into his own paws. In a hurricane of fur, he subdued and bound us, then laid out his demands.  

The contents of the Save the Date package were as follows:

Exhibit A: The Note

Save the Date

September 18, 2004

Or you’ll never see Drew and Christa wed again.

Meet at the corner of 4^th and Washington in Bloomington Indiana at 4:30 p.m. for the “exchange.”

Mr. Puddy

Exhibit B: The Poem

You in your veil and I in my cap
had just settled in for a late March nap
When I was arose by an unnerving clatter
Mr. Pu looked up to say: "What is the matter?"
Quickly he bound us and said: "Be quiet.
You two are getting married, no longer shall I hide it."
He sat us on the floor and giggled with glee
Momentarily stopping to scratch for a flea.
He doffed a sombrero and pretty red scarf
and said: "This is for bathing me and making me barf."
He set up the camera and set the self-timer
and thought: "I didn't know Dad was such a rhymer."
”Try to look surprised,” he said with a grin.
He held his head high to remove his double chin.
The picture was snapped not a moment too late.
Pu wants to make sure that everyone saves the date.

Exhibit C: The Photo of the Captives

The Save the Date packages were mailed. One blood relation, Uncle J, didn’t know what a Save the Date was and thought this was a poor excuse for a wedding invitation, then accused us of being into bondage. Since we mailed these while still in San Diego, The MOB heard the reactions as they moved west to east, and Uncle J lives out west. Instead of laughing off Uncle J’s reaction as ludicrous, she began to fear the worst from the church friends she had invited. The MOB called to tell Christa that bondage was frowned upon at her church.

Fortunately, a member of The MOB’s church received the Save the Date, comprehended, fell out of her chair laughing, and then reassured The MOB, hopefully with minimal discussion of bondage.
- Drew Lloyd
From "Will You?" to "I Do.": A Groom's Tale of Survival