Putting Your Muse(s) to Work

In the fall of 2002, I gave a rather horrific Best Man toast at my older brother's wedding in Miami Beach. I perhaps remember it as a much bigger disaster than it was ... but it was far from a success. I had just turned 19, and in my mind, I had written the most well-crafted, well-balanced speech of all time. It blended pop culture references with a sweet sentiment about Jessica's inexplicable love for my brother. I expected the entire room to be simultaneously slapping their knees and crying hysterically by the time I was through. 

As it turns out, no knees were slapped that evening. And the only person who was crying hysterically was my inner child, who crouched behind the open bar for the remainder of the evening.  

Enter Angie and Alicia, two ladies I've been stalking this past week after discovering them on Twitter. As professional writing consultants for wedding vows, speeches, toasts or whatever, Angie and Alicia (known in some circles as the Vow Muses) give voices to the voiceless. Angie and Alicia bring closure to an event that I still refer to as the greatest failure of my writing career. Nine years later, I'm comforted in knowing that there are two personable professionals out there in the wedding world who can prevent vows, toasts and the like from going south. 

How does it work? Simple: consultation, writing, reveal, revision, collaboration, revision, completion! And aside from injecting you with eloquence and elocution, the muses can also edit your ceremony wording, pen a love poem, revamp your wedding website content, and prepare you for your impending public speaking engagement.

To test their skills, I decided to give Angie and Alicia three extreme but plausible scenarios in which a groom would need ... well ... a script. See their responses below as evidence of their serious writing prowess and their wicked sense of humor.

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You've flown across the country to surprise your girlfriend's father at his home and ask for his daughter's hand in marriage. Unfortunately, on that sharp turn into the driveway, you took out his mailbox with the rental car. On top of that, your return flight departs in an hour, so you've got zero time for small talk. How do you apologize for the damage, get his blessing and prove to him that this mailbox incident is not an indication of your potential ... and accomplish all of that in two minutes or less?

Good afternoon Mr. Guglia, it’s nice to see you again. I have an extremely important request of you and not much time to chat, unfortunately, though those sweet new golf clubs near the stairs may warrant a follow up phone call. Your daughter, Julia, is a wonderful woman. And she takes after her mother, so kudos to you on that. I’m here to request your blessing before I ask for her hand in marriage. Because I don’t want this to turn into a “Meet the Parents” situation, and because my return flight leaves in 50 minutes, I will make this brief: your daughter is the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I will take care of her come hell or high water for the rest of her life. Oh, and you’ll see that I’m quite adept at resolving chaotic situations as I’ve already called a handyman to fix your suddenly dilapidated mailbox… You’ll be happy to know that I’m also working on how to better handle stressful situations and continuously improving my driving skills. With this hesitant handshake and your confused expression, I know exactly how you are feeling even if you can’t conjure the words to express it. Thank you, Mr. Guglia, I look forward to cursing the opposing sporting team with you on Thanksgivings for years to come.

- - -

You're stretched out in the backseat of a car, en route to a hospital somewhere in the middle of the Nevada desert. Your memory is fading, but if you remember correctly, your boys dragged you out into the woods for the bachelor party of a lifetime. Unfortunately, while they did remember the Vienna sausages, they managed to forget the snake bite kit. When your leg tripled in size, they decided to seek medical attention. While you writhe in the backseat, how do you thank them for ten memorable minutes of the bachelor party of a lifetime and, at the same time, suggest that one of them start sucking the snake juice out of that wound?

Dudes, seriously, you guys are awesome. You know your bros are there for you when they plan a totally wicked bachelor party. You know your friends care when they pack you a lunch, take time off work and agree to be in your wedding. Hell, if it doesn’t work out with Brenda, I may just come knocking on one of your doors for more than a couch to sleep on, if you know what I mean. But seriously guys, I know this didn’t go to plan -- unless you planted that bastard of a snake because you didn’t actually get Monday off work -- but sometimes it’s the effort that counts. And speaking of effort, a guy knows he’s really got the best friends ever when one of them is willing to suck snake venom from his leg. No, seriously, I’m gonna need someone to get on that ASAP, sentimental time is over; I can’t feel my hands anymore.

- - -

Well, the good news is that no one at the rehearsal dinner has caught on that there's a fire brewing toward the back of the venue. The bad news is that there's a fire brewing toward the back of the venue. (Something about your family and open flames never sat right with you.) As entrees make their way out to the tables and the curtains begin to blaze, you stand to deliver your welcoming toast for the weekend. So how exactly do you thank them for coming while politely asking them to get the hell out ... like, now?

Hello everyone and welcome to Beth and my wedding weekend. Thank you all for coming; we’re so glad that you could all make it. You know, someone once told me that love is like a fire that burns inside us and grows to consume our bodies and minds. At one time I would not have believed that, but some very recent events have wholly convinced me of this truth. And on that note, I thank you all for coming here to celebrate the fire of love that burns between Beth and myself, and kindly ask you to file out your nearest exit to avoid any further flames unintentionally affecting anyone else on this wonderful night. This toast will continue on the front sidewalk in 30 seconds, move it people!

 - - -

Before you leave us, ladies -- any tips for grooms out there who may be thinking about writing their own vows?

First, if you're hesitant, get help! That's what Vow Muse is for, of course, and we can save you from looking like a doof in front of hundreds of people (not to mention invoking the Wrath of the Bride). If you're comfortable writing your own vows, we advise that you remember who your audience is (grandma doesn't want to hear anything raunchy); just say what you feel (your friends can tease you later); and say just enough that your lady doesn't upstage you but not so much that your guests are staring out the windows by the end. Good luck and happy groom-ing! 

- - -

Please visit the talented Angie and Alicia at VowMuse.com, 

follow them on Twitter, or contact them directly at muse@vowmuse.com. 

Treasure Hunting

2E's and I are both at that age now when our parents' scraps -- their memorabilia and collector's items, their postcards and newspaper cut-outs, so forth and so on -- have an almost immeasurable worth to us, their offspring, and our future offspring (don't get me started). The contents of their photo albums and shoe boxes have passed right through expired, aged, old, and moved straight into timeless, ageless, priceless.

2E's fawning over wedding paraphernalia

Through this journey, we've become (to some unskilled degree) wedding archaeologists, eager to unearth the ABCs of our parents' nuptials, 2E's gasping over every handwritten note, every Polaroid picture, every vintage-y element employed by her hippie parents and their June 1980 Massachusetts wedding (see ancient catering menu below, with a grand total of $900 to feed 125):

Dale and Reid's overwhelmingly vegetarian catering menu, which did, thankfully, include sugar cubes

And what we've found is far more valuable than any inspiration board or "Real Wedding" we've encountered in the last fourteen (yes, fourteen) months. What we've found is a style that cannot be duplicated or replicated because it is inherently theirs. We've found personality etched into every nook and cranny of every last detail. Take, for instance, the generic Marriage Ceremony guide -- a word-by-word playbook of the traditional Christian wedding -- with which they had spliced their own ceremonial words and typewritten vows, savagely sewn into the pages with bronze Scotch tape.

The "this is the word of our Lord" remix

What we've found -- and never intended to find -- is that, when our own children look back, dig up the scraps of our October 2010 Brooklyn wedding in (god help us) 30 years or so, they'll find that we -- like our own parents and their parents before them -- kept it simple, kept it personal and captured some truly unique moments in the course of one very hectic day. They'll wonder at our Save the Date as you might wonder at some crushing historic revelation, turn the pages of our digital photo album and marvel at the technological simplicity of our self-made wedding website; most importantly, though, they'll see personality in every element, and, as my dad would say, that'll be really neat.

In the meantime, my future mother-in-law has fixed me a foursome of vodka and lemon juice cocktails in twist-cap airplane bottles to slip into our carry-on bag and soothe the cough that's been haunting me this week. And I can't imagine anything more motherly-in-law.

love,
madman

The FOB Says

Six years ago you were terrified to meet him. Last year you hopped on a plane, hopped into a rental car, drove to his Chapel Hill home and woke him from his sacred midday nap to ask him for his daughter's hand in marriage. And in less than two months, he'll be escorting your 2E's down the aisle, jotting down the bullet-points of your vows on the palm of his hand and ensuring that you uphold those promises for, like, forever.

But at this moment in time, Reid Wilson -- FOB and father-in-law to-be -- has stopped in with a semi-fresh pot of coffee and a bowl of peanuts to answer some groom-related questions and to help ease our nerves. So to speak. 

SO WHAT'S IT LIKE TO HAVE STEVE MARTIN PLAY YOU IN A MOVIE? DO YOU FEEL LIKE YOU HAVE TO FILL HIS BIG, SARCASTIC SHOES?? 
Isn't it the other way around? If Steve Martin is playing me, doesn't he have to fill my big sarcastic shoes? And speaking of Steve Martin, shouldn't you and your 2E's be working on your vows about now...? Only 58 days left. 

GOOD POINT - ANY SUGGESTIONS IN THE VOW DEPARTMENT? ANYTHING I SHOULDN'T PROMISE?? 
As I recall, my wives and I worked on our vows separately and then compared notes later. That's about all I remember now.

I'm not one for giving advice, but I think there is some expectation here since I've read the BM and the FOG and the MOO interviews...

YOU MEAN THE MOH INTERVIEW. 
Right. So. OK...

(a) Absolutely memorize your vows, and don't bring the script up there as back-up in case you "get nervous and black out." Man up!
(b) When my brother Phill turns to you and signals, ask in a quiet but audible voice, My turn? When he nods, shrug your shoulders innocently and begin. This will get everyone's attention. You know how they tend to drift of during those monotonous parts.
(c) At some point during your vows, create a pregnant pause and appear to get somewhat choked up. (I saw you do it in that college production of Macbeth, so I know you have it in you.) Helps get the audience on your side.

(d) Don't use rhymes. Not even iambic pentameter.
(e) Don't promise anything that you can't actually pull off. And while poetry itself is out of the question, you can certainly take poetic license in service of sentimentality. Remind 2E's that you love her deeply and that you will always keep her best interests in mind throughout your lives. That's what's important. Say the stuff that makes them go, "Ah."
(f) But drop the "obey" stuff. It's not expected, and it sounds pedestrian.

AND YOU SAID YOU DIDN'T GIVE ADVICE ... DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR VOWS IN SAFEKEEPING SOMEWHERE? MAYBE I CAN STEAL SOME OF YOUR ZINGERS?
Oh, yes. And no, absolutely not. 

COME OCTOBER, YOU'LL BE WALKING DOWN THE AISLE FOR THE FIRST TIME. HAVE YOU BEEN PRACTICING YOUR GAIT?
Oh, nuts! I forgot to worry about that minor detail ... I've been so wrapped up in the bathroom floral arrangements. Now I have a little pain in my tummy.

HIGH EXPECTATIONS FOR PHILL AS OUR NON-DENOMINATIONAL OFFICIANT?
I have the utmost confidence in Phill, and you should, too. Every time he's had master-of-ceremonies-type responsibility, he never fails to pull off some masterful prank. He's a hoot! Like three years ago, at Uncle Ralph's funeral, he -- oh, well, I don't want to spoil the surprise.  

Reid (right) and 2E's Uncle Phill, hamming it up circa 1955

HMM. MAYBE WE SHOULD HAVE YOU STANDING-BY AS A BACK-UP...
Actually, I did play the role of the priest at our parents' 50th wedding anniversary, set in the basement of the Catholic Church in Boston. But the collar I'd fashioned was way too stiff, and I moved around like I was in a body cast. And I was far too serious during the homily -- it seemed right when I was writing it, but people like to be entertained. You won't have that problem with Phill. He's a riot.

FROM WHAT YOU'VE READ OF THE BLOG, HOW HAS WEDDING PLANNING CHANGED IN THE LAST 10/20 YEARS?
As I experience secondhand your involvement in the process, I am filled with severe regret. If only I had known that I could have taken a 5-hour event and stretched it out to a joyous year's-worth of "honey do" lists...

 Reid's clerical work and the infamous collar 

OKAY -- BEACHY, WOODSY OR URBAN HONEYMOON? 
I'm missing the point of this question, Madman. I mean, you've already made your decision. This sounds like a fluff question. Like you're just trying to fill space.

Hey - wait! Is this whole interview, like, to just fill space? Like, existentially meaningless?? 

PROBABLY. YES. GETAWAY VEHICLE AT YOUR WEDDING? 
Actually, I didn't get away. I went through with both weddings in their entirety. And I have absolutely no regrets.

FAIR ENOUGH. BUT IF YOU WERE TO PLAN YOUR ESCAPE... 
 ...oh, hypothetically speaking, if I were to need a getaway vehicle, I'd pick a stationary bike.