The big question of the ceremony was, where was the DJ? Why wasn't he answering the phone? A few hours after the wedding he called back: he's ready to go Sunday. The minister said anything going wrong makes the event more magical; this magic was the planned theme of ``1980s Pop'' changing to ``CDs Somebody Had In The Car.'' I swear they played all the Beatles tracks louder. Is The Taxman a wedding song? It doesn't matter.
I managed my reading without messing up the words I kept changing while rehearsing. I wasn't sure the microphone was on, so tried enunciating more dramatically, then worried it was on, so underplayed, and had voice right by the last clause. At least I kept eye contact. A PETA van, apparently, delivered some of the guests; I guess they didn't see me wearing leather shoes. (Also, my dad looks great in patent leather shoes.)
I didn't get to dance. I was telling Singapore stories, including the quest for pants and my sneeze on the President of Singapore (which reminded me I'd once done the same to New Jersey Governor Jim Florio). And I got to see key family and friends. At the hotel the ``Safety'' pages of the Directory of Guest Services are missing. I took a hot bath, for the first time in years. I need to spend more time in deliberately hot water.
I noticed my mother, in wedding gowns, looks startlingly like Majel Barrett (and also her mother). An uncle looks more like James Doohan than James Doohan ever did. I wonder why I never noticed my inner Gene Roddenberry.
Trivia: The word ``bother'' is a borrowing from Irish Gaelic. Source: The Story of English, Robert McCrum, Robert MacNeil, William Cran.
Currently Reading: A History of Venice, John Julius Norwich.