I can not believe I got all choked up last night watching the special wedding episode of Extreme Makeover. See, these two schlubby people not only got free extreme makeovers, but they got a free dream wedding at Disney World too -- the only catch being that they had to endure the endless pain of not seeing each other from the first pokes of their surgeries until their wedding day seven weeks later.
It helped that they seemed like fun, happy, grounded, drama-free people -- and that they both had a sense of humor and decidedly realistic expectations from the whole thing.
But I've recently become wholly and unapologetically anti-wedding (as in anti-ALL-wedding) in the wake of all the anti-gay-wedding sentiment now flowing so copiously and unapologetically from every compassionate-conservative corner of humanity. I won't sing at weddings, I won't buy Lenox gravy boats for my friends who register at foo-foo houses of expensive finery, I won't waste time and money and entire weekends wearing starchy shirts and sitting in goddamned churches watching people get married ... I'm just over the whole fucking thing.
But then I crawled home last night from another long-ass workday and another too-short workout and I plopped down slack-jawed in front of the goddess TiVo, and before I knew it -- even though the show quickly subjected me to waaay too much coverage of cake tasting and flower arrangements and other inane wedding-planning rituals -- I found myself tearing up as these two people discovered an outer beauty to match the inner beauty they'd already found (and the guy turned out kind of hot) and pledged their love for each other in front of family, friends, Mickey Mouse and all those carefully picked flower arrangements.
OK. So if you ask nicely and fork over the right amount of cash, I may be persuaded to sing at your wedding (breeder or otherwise). But you will NOT get me to sing that godawful "There is Love" song.