NO FLAMING LOVE SONG

“We don’t have a song,” Christa stated, perturbed by this fact.

“Pick one,” I offered.

“It doesn’t happen that way,” she returned.

Believing in fate means you don’t search for a song; a song finds you. We had been together for a while but had never officially adopted a song. We never looked, but we weren’t supposed to. At some point, there must be a moment when you get a song. We had moments, pre-engagement, where we talked about our wedding, and the fact that we didn’t have a song seemed to become more critical.

“”What will we dance to?” she asked.

“Something nice,” I said.

“Or maybe we won’t need to, because we shouldn’t get married, because we weren’t meant to, because we don’t have a song!” Overreaction bells go off!

Eventually, not having a song passed some inflection point, and it suddenly became a sign that perhaps we weren’t as meant to be as we thought.

Signs are interesting phenomena of wedding planning. Signs happen everywhere, all the time. Anything, when interpreted properly, is a sign. In this example, not having a song due to not ever seeking one—and having a continental divide between our preferred musical tastes—was a sign that cast doubt on our soulmate designation. I don’t know what was so important in her life that Mötley Crüe’s “Dr. Feelgood” wasn’t taken to heart.

There were times where we tried to force the issue. We would discuss songs we liked individually. She even humored me by asking what some of my favorite songs were about, lyrically speaking. I answered, “I’m not really sure, but the music has energy. Doesn’t it make you want to move, get excited, have pyrotechnics everywhere?” No matter what the argument, it was always inappropriate for our song. Even I knew we had to be able to modestly slow dance to our song. Or maybe she told me.

I listened to her songs, and they were more pleasant and nonpyrotechnic. She apparently pays attention to the words and the story they portray. Who are you with your musical message of love and hope? I can listen to a song with lyrics that either make no sense or are just bad, but if the singer makes it work with the instruments, and it makes me want to light things on fire, we have a winner. She will tolerate what seems to be music meant to make you squirm and not want to be in a confined space, in order to hear the story of everlasting love told by the singer. You can be assured our song will have a good story being told and much less emphasis on creating spontaneous arson.

Then one day, some day like any other day, we were watching the classic How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. It had a wonderful number, at the point where Kate Hudson’s character, several days into her how-to project to land a man and chase him away in ten days with the dating blunders women make all the time, was returning from Matthew McConahey’s character’s parents’ house via ferry. She had just realized, in trying to repulse this gentlemen caller, that she may have found the real thing. They share an intimate moment with a single cola beverage, and he gives her his coat. Cue music and listen to the lyrics, as they describe finding someone who makes you feel like you’re back at home, in the comfort and warmth where you belong, after a seemingly endless wait.

We replayed it, because we thought it was nice. We both said we liked it. I asked if it was our song. She said, “I think it is.” And it was done. We had our song, and we could dance to it, at a reasonable pace. “Feels like Home,” by Chantal Kreviazuk, one of the most unpyrotechnic songs I have ever heard, but I love it.
- Drew Lloyd
From "Will You?" to "I Do.": A Groom's Tale of Survival