(thanks to PJP for the image)

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So, last week, you heard about the ceremony.

Our wedding and reception were typical of most weddings in that it was mostly (98%) about what the bride wanted. She chose the colors, the flowers, the venues, pretty much everything. I put in my pointless two cents when it was requested, but mostly, I stayed out of the way, and just worked on my one declared decision - picking out the band - and vetoed a few small items here and there. It really was her big day, and I wanted it to be everything she wanted it to be. 

After the ceremony the photographer began to weave us in and out of our family members taking pictures and wearing us out. Pictures with my mom and step-dad, my dad and step-mom, her dad and step-mom, her mom and step-dad, with brothers, without brothers, grandparents, cousins, neighbors dogs, etc. Ugh. Finally, I told the photographer, “Enough, already!”, and we got on the bus, where the rest of the wedding party was waiting patiently for us (getting drunk) to raise our first beers as a married couple. I have to admit it was a great tasting beer, kind like when you finish mowing the grass on a hot day, but not like that at all.

When we arrived at the reception site, we were all quickly shuffled off the bus for more pictures. Wedding party standing, kneeling, jumping in the air, walking Reservoir Dogs style, pointing at nothing in the air. This time, my wife put her foot down, as she was ready for some food and champagne. We went inside where there was a special room set up for us with some drinks and snacks. It was supposed to be a secret room for wedding party only, but people who thought they were more special than everyone else kept popping in to say, “Congratulations! You look so great. How’s Charlottesville? Do you like your job? Do you plan to have kids?, etc.” We barely got a chance to finish our glasses of champagne before we had to get in line for introductions.

The next hour went by really fast… introduction of wedding party, best man, and maid of honor… first dance (Billy Joel’s “Just the way you are” in case you were wondering), father-bride dance, wedding party dance, then immediately into “Congratulations! You look so great. How’s Charlottesville? Do you like your job? Do you plan to have kids?, etc.” over and over and over.  And over. I got so tired of answering these questions, that I finally just started making stuff up. “You didn’t know, we already have two kids. I can’t believe her mom kept that a secret.” or “I’ve been on tour with my new band, ‘Monkey Patrol’ for years now. Don’t you listen to the radio?” This was way more fun. Of course, I would tell people I was joking, but I actually have to answer any questions.

Meanwhile, the band we had hired, Johnny Houston and the Legends was rockin’. People were on the dance floor, shaking, spinning, sliding, alligator dancing, and just having a good ol’ time. I caught site of Wifey cutting rugs out there a few times. I tried to get out there and join her, but someone would always stop me with “Congratulations! You look so great. How’s Charlottesville? Do you like your job? Do you plan to have kids?, etc.” This was really getting annoying.

After a few hours, I had had enough. I gathered some of my groomsmen around me and snuck outside to the end of the patio to smoke a cigar. Finally a chance to relax. Wifey came out and took a few puffs and went back inside. As soon as she walked away, I was approached by “Tizzle”, the old drummer from Thred. ”Hey, man. You wanna jam? I talked to the band leader and he said it was cool.”

I thought about it for a second. “I don’t know. I’m not really feeling it. I’ve got so much other crap going on right now. What’d you have in mind, though.”

“Dunno, maybe One More Saturday Night.”

“That could be good, but still, eh. I’m not really feeling it.”

“OK, well if you change your mind, we’re all in.”

I really didn’t feel like playing. This night was not about that. It was about celebrating our marriage. Besides, we had paid good money for a great band. They would be fine. Instead, I went and got a plate of food, and new drink. Actually, I sent the facility appointed “attendant to the bride and groom” to got get me a plate of food and a new drink. When she finally tracked me down, 20 minutes later. She interrupted a “Congratulations…” conversation to hand me my drink and tell me my food was on a table upstairs. ”Also,” she said, “I talked with the band, and they said they are fine with you guys playing one song. Just let me know when you are ready, and I’ll let them know.” Somebody had gone over my head. How annoying. 

As the night went on, the drinks went down, and the party got funky, I began to get that itch. Maybe I did wanna play. After all this was my wedding. I can do whatever the hump I want. I took a look at the guitar player in the band. He was playing an American Fender Strat Reissue modified with a MIDI module connected to a digital effects board foot pedal and playing through a Vintage Fender Twin. (Yes, I’m a bit of guitar geek) My first thought, was “what a waste of pure clean sound”.   But then I gave it a listen, and decided that the tone was pretty good, and it just might work.

First to get the guys together. I found Webby first. “Hey, man. I’m thinking we oughta get up there and bust one out.”

“Oh yeah, whadja have in mind?”

“I’ve got the perfect song. Trust me, you’ll be able to play it. And as my best man, you don’t have a choice.”

“Alright, then. Who else you got?”

“Shafty and Tizzle on drums. You mind rounding them up for me? I’ll set it up with the band.”

“Sure thing.”

Of course, at that very moment my attendant showed up with a fresh gin and tonic (bless her heart), so I asked her to tell the band we’d be ready in two more songs. I watched her make contact and point me out to the band leader. He looked over and winked. We were good to go.

Five minutes later, he made the announcement for us to get up there and play. The guitar player handed me his custom Strat, and I promised him I’d be gentle and would give it right back. I suddenly notice how much I was shaking. I was nervous. After 15 years of playing music in front of people you’d think I’d be used to being on stage. But this was different. Performing in front on people I know always makes me nervous. I guess it’s because I actually care what they think. This wasn’t a regular crowd for me. This was EVERYONE I knew.

I felt a little like my hero, Marty McFly. But my Chuck Berry was Jerry Garcia.

“Blues in C, boys. Follow me for the changes.”

I said a few words into the mic and started the lick. Shafty and Tizzle both new the song, and picked it up right away. I could hear Webby behind me getting into the groove, too. Once we all had it, I started to sing.

When I hear your name, I start to shake in side.  When I see you stroll, I lose my self control.

That’s what love’ll do for you. That’s what love will make you do. No matter how hard I fight it, Baby I’m still in love with you.If you’re ever in need, there’s no limit to what I’d do. I work eight days a week, and I’d give it all to you.That’s what love’ll do for you. That’s what love will make you do. No matter how hard I fight it, Baby I’m still in love with you.I took a guitar solo, and that Strat cut clean through the roof. When I was done, I busted into the bridge.When they speak of beauty you can stand the test. When they talk about making love, baby you’re the best.

I’m trying hard to express myself cause, baby that’s the way I feel.

That’s what love’ll do for ya…

We jammed that song out hard. Webby took a piano solo, I took another one. Then a big finish, and BAM! The room exploded into applause. It wasn’t the biggest crowd I’d ever played for, but it may have been the loudest. Man, that felt good. Almost as good as the kiss I got from my new bride when I stepped down off the stage.

She may have stolen the show all day, but I at least got my short moment in the spotlight that night. Truly, the greatest day of my life.

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