My Homes Away from Home

Each of the table names needed to be displayed in some way. They needed to be printed on champagne-colored paper and placed on a merlot background. The design needed to be self-standing and noble, yet not obtrusive or visually limiting to the guests. It needed a delicate, yet wistful font, while still proclaiming its place on our rented tables. It also had to include a lobster or, better, two, gazing at one another and offering a lifetime of companionship.

I pursued the perfect lobster throughout the great cyber-ocean. I was but a man and his mouse sailing the great open seas, past third-grade science projects and some very jovial man’s summer vacation to the Northeast. Then the great beast appeared before me, his head turned slightly away, but raising a mighty claw to toast the newest couple in the great crustacean community. He had an air about him that inspired great celebration at his arrival and instant attention when he implied a desire to speak.

I asked of him, “Kind Sir, of all the digitally rendered members of the animal kingdom, I sought you out for your nobility, your sincerity, and your very firm handshake that jolts anyone who makes your acquaintance. I would be most pleased and forever indebted, if you would allow me to place your image of transcendent love on our table-name cards.”

He tipped his big whisker, gave me a wink, and said, “I am a man of few words, where you obviously are not. I would gladly grace your table, just not from a pot.”

“You can’t cook a jpeg,” I started to say, but he had turned tail and flitted away.

I realize that I am only capable of rhyming in the pattern of ’Twas the Night Before Christmas, but it doesn’t bother me.

I had composed, stylized, and lobsterized the table name cards. I made some demos on copy paper to show Christa and gave her four fonts to choose from. After examining a few iterations of bigger, taller, and not so fat but with quarter-inch borders all around, except the bottom, she said: “The real ones will be prettier, right?”

Oh, tread carefully, my love. Tell me again how hard you work at your “real” job, as I, the wedding elf, toil year-round for your one day of glory. Being crafty requires a focus only found by watching SportsCenter and reading the same job postings as the day before. I was strong and eventually had my champagne-colored (aka Office Depot ivory resume paper) prototype. Now I needed something red and sturdy to support it in a sawhorse form. This required a trip to Michael’s

Michael’s offers everything tacky in home decorating that you might get away with in very limited quantities. But at the store, it is literally growing off the shelves, in an effort to attach to you and transfer the crafties. Something like the cooties, crafties are mostly imaginary, invisible entities that can be transmitted from a vile subgroup of the human species or their possessions. Girls used to have cooties, but you didn’t have to specifically touch a girl to get them. You could borrow a girl’s pencil, and bam! You became the newest resident in Cootieville. In the same vein, you can catch the crafties, not only from the craft practitioners, but from their supplies as well.

I found some sturdy paper in red at Michael’s and brought it home.
- Drew Lloyd
From "Will You?" to "I Do.": A Groom's Tale of Survival

Music to Our Ears

The next-best choice for favors that made everyone else happy was personalized CDs. We were advised against giving long written explanations of why each song was special to us and told to limit self-promotion. All we had to do was agree upon about ten songs that represented our relationship and the eternal memories everyone would have of it. Now that the guests would have something to cherish forever, we had to make a lasting impression instead of the cheap but forgettable thrill of a scratch-off ticket. Needless to say, my CD collection wasn’t even looked at.

The “Drew and Christa Eternal Love Forever” (working title) CD had some given material. It needed to contain “our” song. The rest of the CD would be determined by our reception and the general afterglow we wanted to cast. We were also looking to spice it up with a little comic relief. We wondered initially if our minister would be willing to open with “Marriage. Marriage is what brings us together today,” the wonderful opening to The Princess Bride wedding between Buttercup and Prince Humperdinck—said in an Elmer Fudd-like voice. We decided against adding it to the ceremony but figured it could be used to introduce us at the reception. That got us thinking about having a comedic interlude before each couple of the bridal party was introduced. We thought of one from Seinfeld, where Jerry and Elaine discuss the percentage of good-looking, datable people, and Jerry refers to the Motor Vehicle Bureau as a leper colony to support his pessimistic view of 4 to 6 percent of people being good looking. Sometimes it’s a little scary how prominent a role television plays in our relationship.

In our case, Wal-Mart was not so far from the Motor Vehicle Bureau. Praise God, we didn’t meet in the gardening department, else we would have no excuse for avoiding The MG’s favors of the earth.

Another classic sequence was Kramer talking Jerry out of any marriage thoughts he might be having, summarizing marriage and families as man-made prisons, where you talk about your day instead of watching TV and have to ask permission to use the bathroom.

I was fortunate to find someone who also felt that watching TV during dinner shouldn’t be interrupted by talking about our days. It’s a matter of whether she decides to watch Extra or Friends re-runs, during which I have the personal freedom to relieve myself as needed.

There are probably some copyright issues involved here, so for the record, the conversations on our planned CD favor are not from Seinfeld, but from two sock puppets I had on my hands.

We also considered having sound bites from The Muppet Show’s old guys in the balcony. Finding appropriate quotes from the old farts didn’t work out, but we did consider entering the reception to the theme song from The Muppet Show: It’s time to play the music. It’s time to light the lights. You know it. It takes you to a happy place. It felt like a good song to form a train to and orchestrate a synchronized dance among the bridal party. I feel a veto coming…

…and there it is.

My search also took me through numerous movie sound-clip sites. It was hard to find exactly what I needed for eternal memories—until I stumbled upon a site containing clips from Looney Tunes. This was a gold mine. I often imitate Pepe Le Pew, when seeking affection from the cat. Kissing up his front paw, while talking like a French skunk.

“M-wa, m-wa, m-wa, how are you, Darling? I seek your affection. Why do you resist?”

So why not take a couple lines of amour from the grand romancer himself?

Pepe (speaking with actual accent of a French skunk): “Ah, my little darling, it is love at first sight, is it not? M-wa, m-wa, m-wa.”

If tried on your own, this accent should be similar to the “cod” chef’s, described earlier, but not as deep and sans the touch of Jersey.

Pepe: “Ack-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack. I pierce you with the ack-ack of love, Flowerpot.”

I don’t know what it is about using flowerpot as a term of endearment, but it works. Pepe called her a flowerpot, and it entertained us. Enough said. But in addition to that piece of wonderment, he pierced her with the ack-ack of love, in the same sentence. Fantastic. Let’s examine this for use in every day life. You need:

1. A sound effect, preferably repeatable, but not necessarily related to a weapon (Don’t burden yourself with spelling at this time.)
2. An action verb, because you need to do this sound effect onto or at your loved one
3. A household object, which can seemingly be chosen at random but must, in some odd way, convey your attraction
4. A willingness to employ a bad French accent

Let’s try a couple.

Reader: “Puh-puh-puh. I bathe you in the puh-puh of love, Oven Mitt.”

“Puh” is the sound of the machine used in your glaucoma exam, when it blows the small puff of air into your eye. I don’t know why we consider this a funny sound; it just is. It should be made almost under your breath.

Reader: “Choo-choo-choo-choo, choo-choo-choo-choo. I flatten you with the choo-choo of love, Shower Cap.”

The aggressiveness of the noise can be chosen to fit the mood. You can “puh” during a candlelit evening at home and “choo” at a tailgate. It is such a simple formula for conveying affection, without having to expose any real feelings. It should be adopted the world over. Needless to say the Pepeisms made the final cut. And so did about ten songs.

That concludes the long, written (and useless) explanation of everything but our music selections—just what we were warned against. Sorry.
- Drew Lloyd
From "Will You?" to "I Do.": A Groom's Tale of Survival

IN THE WEDDING WORKSHOP - DON’T GAMBLE ON FAVORS

Wedding favors were another small thing that had to be dealt with, but there really weren’t any guidelines. Anything that can be purchased, assembled, or pulled from the ground for less than five dollars per head was a viable favor. This meant that there was really no limit to the suggestions we received regarding favors. Given that they really play a minor role, in the grand scheme of things, the ratio of value per e-mailed or spoken suggestion was about the lowest possible, in this phase of planning. The amount of time we spent on this particular item was far greater than what should have been allocated.

I am sure we started with a list of the one hundred hottest wedding favors from a bridal magazine. Our never-ending pursuit of celebrity coolness led us to consider donuts, caramel apples, scratch-off lottery tickets, and a couple others. I got price quotes on large-scale donut production. I reviewed the Indiana Lottery instant-win game webpage. PL, MG acted quickly on our suggestions, referencing her Master Gardener title (in case we didn’t know).

Hi Drew and Christa,
Jan suggested a favor which might not be as quirky as you like, but is somewhat unique,
inexpensive, seasonally appropriate and grows, so it has life and longevity like marriages.
It is…a group of flower bulbs suitable for fall planting. They went to a September wedding a
few years ago where every person's place had a white net square tied up with ribbon containing
3 or 4 crocus bulbs. They are not messy, easy to take home unless you are leaving the country,
grow in any temperature zone and live for a long time. I personally love this idea, but I am a
Master Gardener, always helping others' grow, so who could say what others might think.
Off hand I can only think Danza would love it as much. I am deciding the donut idea might not
be the best, as I think the donuts would be stale by evening, having been made early in the day.

Just another !IDEA! from your Mom. XO

Let me summarize the highlights of her idea and its presentation:

1. It might not be what we are looking for, but it does have a gardening theme.
2. She is certain two guests (including herself) out of one hundred-plus would love this; that’s slightly under 2 percent, for those keeping track at home.
3. Donuts, our idea, is not a good one, dismissed in one sentence.

Considering this e-mail, Christa and I came to an agreement that lottery tickets would be fun. They provided instant gratification, or at least momentary excitement, and around one in five wins, so we would have a fair number of winners at the reception. We were able to find a Magic Eight Ball scratch-off game for $2 a ticket. Christa likes to keep a Magic Eight Ball in her office to address all the great quandaries her coworkers have. Being formally educated in psychology enables her to safely and accurately wield such prognostic power.

I went online to find some Magic Eight Balls to answer all the questions that reception guests might have. Not only did I find them, I found Magic Love Eight Balls. Yes, for all the love and romance our event would be inspiring. I ordered one for each table.

We told our parents about our decision to have lottery tickets as favors. The MG was all over this one.

Hi Drew and Christa,

I am still thinking about favors!! I think that lottery tickets somehow don't fit in at all with the
upscale elements of your formal wedding. In researching the bulb idea, I think I could buy 3 to
5 bulbs per person for $100 to $150. Besides crocus bulbs you can buy scillia, which are a
beautiful bright blue. Look online to see the choices, but they will have to be ordered soon.
Danza said Will and Carly gave bags of jelly bellies in their wedding colors. The bags had a
tag with their song printed on it. What about using the votives as favors? We probably have
no other use for 120 votives. Or could you use a small frame or place card holder as a favor?
I think I prefer the donut idea to lottery tickets. I know you want something unique, but…

Talk to you soon. XO Mom

P. S. Dad thinks a lottery ticket will make it seem like the marriage is a long shot, or it's in the
dice as to whether it will last. I don't think you want to give that impression!!!

And here are the highlights:

1. Our new favor, lottery tickets, was dismissed in one sentence.
2. She provided additional follow-up on her preferred gardening favors.
3. She offered other ideas as a diversion, to lighten the blow that…
4. The previously reported bad donuts are superior to the lottery tickets because they imply our marriage is a long shot; that is, go with the bulbs or get a divorce.

I e-mailed back, saying: “We are not considering any form of plant life. So please shift away from that area of ideas. And surely, a sole lottery ticket at each place setting won’t instantaneously change everyone’s perception of our fine event from wedding to tractor pull.”

The Magic Love Eight Balls arrived, and we took one for a test drive. The answers weren’t consistent with a particular line of questioning, such as yes or no. So we had to rephrase our questions and ask again, where we inevitably got a yes-or-no answer to our no longer yes-or-no question. The MG said they sounded tacky. I’m paraphrasing at this point; my sessions are costly.

Eventually Christa said we couldn’t go through with the lottery tickets idea, because we had taken so much grief for it. You can see the grief from my family in the sample e‑mails, and The MOB wrote Christa often to make sure she wasn’t doing anything to upset The MG, such as reject her favor ideas. This decision was made after we had done 80 percent of the work to make this our favor idea.

Ultimately, all but two of the Magic Love Balls were returned. We decided that we could keep a couple on the bar to entertain guests waiting for cocktails. I decided to consult a Magic Love Ball for help.

“Is Christa annoyed with the difficulty of pleasing everyone else with the favors?” I asked the great oracle.

“As you wish! ♥” It replied.

“Not exactly an answer there, Mr. Ball. Christa is annoyed and should do what she wants with the favors.”

“Headache, ask later.”

Five minutes passed.

“Christa is annoyed and should do what she wants with the favors.”

“Maybe yes, maybe no.”

“Should we do what everyone else wants, so at least they will be happy?”

“Don’t plan on it.”

“Are you the most worthless piece of fortune-telling equipment ever produced?”

“Sorry, wasn’t listening.”

“Obviously not, you piece of crap. Would you survive a fall from a second story window onto blacktop?”

“Sorry, honey!”

“Don’t sass me you little bastard. Do you sense my anger?”

“♥ If you say so!”

“I have had enough of your lip. Prepare to meet your maker.”

“Whatever you want! ♥”

“Oh yeah. I want this. Any last words?”

“My sources say no!”

“Pleasant travels, smart ass.”

I learned violence towards inanimate and “innocent” objects, in times of anger, is kind of fun. And that being an unemotional, aloof smart ass isn’t as pleasant to others as I had hoped. I am only too sorry that it is too late to thank the Love Ball for that bit of life-changing insight.
- Drew Lloyd
From "Will You?" to "I Do.": A Groom's Tale of Survival