Tongue in Cheek
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Tongue in Cheek My Big Gay Straight Wedding |
by Kevin Isom
I
just went to the gayest straight wedding I've ever attended.
First of all, it was in England, and
everyone knows the British always sound gay, just by virtue of the way
they talk. In America, good enunciation equals queer, after all –
at least in G.W. Bush country.
In addition, it was perfectly, exactly,
excruciatingly well-planned and organized. My best friend is clearly a
gay male control freak in a straight woman's body. The hair, the dress,
the flowers – my morning suit – all were simply perfection.
And I looked smashing in my – yes – lavender tie and pocket
square.
The vicar at the church had to adjust
to a Gentleman of Honour instead of a Matron of Honour, so during the
vows there were three men and one woman up front.
I walked the bride down the aisle
("Remember, I set the pace!" she growled just as the music started).
And I'm just now getting the feeling back in my arm from her excited,
terrified, hopeful grip.
The reception was at a country
manor house that was enough to take your breath away as you drove into
view and gasped, "The reception is HERE? This is a castle!"
The food was superb, the wine and champagne sublime. It couldn't have
been more of a princess wedding if Disney had designed it.
After the wedding, my best friend
still has her name. She didn't trade it in for his name, because it had
been hers for too long to let go of. (In fact, longer than she'd like
to admit.) She and he will have to decide how to address thank you notes
and Christmas cards – will it be both their names or a hyphenated
version? – just like a gay couple would have to do.
But none of that was the gayest part.
I learned the day before the wedding
that in a slightly modified British tradition, as the Gentleman of Honour,
I had to give a speech at the reception. Not a simple toast, as I had
thought, but a speech. And I had a day to plan it, write it, practice
it, and deliver it in front of a room of 50-some people. It had to be
good. And it had to meet other needs. Because as I thought about what
I would say, it hit me: she's had a parallel experience to being gay.
My best friend has always had a challenging
family life (that was one of the things that drew us together –
comparing notes on whose family could be more bizarre), and I knew it
was painful to her that there wasn't any family there. Her beloved grandmother
was now deceased, and Oma, as she called her, was the only family my friend
had left. You see, people become estranged from a parent for all sorts
of reasons. Gayness is just a really popular one. And there would be no
parent at this wedding, an experience with which many gays can empathize.
But as I thought about it, I realized that maybe I could help. Because
family isn't just the people you're related to by blood.
When my turn came to speak, I turned
to the room, took a deep breath, and this is what I said:
"I was deeply honored when Pelka
asked me to give her away and to serve as her Gentleman of Honour. I was
also deeply relieved that she did not require me to wear chiffon. Or for
that matter, to hold her bouquet during the ceremony.
"We've been best friends for 20 years,
and we've made our friendship last even across the Atlantic. I've heard
that the groom has been known to ask, 'What DO you talk about for three
hours at a time?' For the last six months, I can tell you, it's been about
the wedding...
"Some have said that, as we move
into adulthood, we create families of our own choosing, and I suppose
that Pelka and I were the first members of each other's family of choice.
"As such, I have always been
concerned that she marry the right man – one she can really be happy
with. My role over the years has been that of 'monster-in-law-to-be.'
To sort of put the fear of God into any prospective mate.
"Yet I have to say, that with David,
I never felt the need to do so. And when I asked Pelka fairly early on
in their relationship if this was someone she would marry, I was surprised
when she answered, without hesitation, 'Yes, I would.'
"So I think we've seen a good
thing here today. But Pelka, I want you to know, that monster-in-law is
always here for you. And David, welcome to the family."
After the speeches were done, David
turned to me and said, "Now that Pelka and I are married, we're family
now!" I leaned back and replied, "Just call me MaMa."
It was, indeed, the gayest of weddings.
Kevin Isom is the author of It Only Hurts When I Polka and Tongue in Cheek and Other Places, available at bookstores and online. He may be reached at isomonline@aol.com or www.KevinIsom.com