Weddings

I love weddings. I have been to many and I still love them. The music, the aisle, the friends, the jokes, the prescribed actions of the audience & the wedding party; oh what a fine blend of public & personal interaction. But now I must talk of some of the finer points of a wedding: the Dancing. My favorite part is the middle-aged men who forget that they are married middle-aged men. Or the toddlers who just run around the dance floor and everyone calls it ‘dancing,’ but yes it’s such a cute thing to see. Or the dance where the spotlight falls on the 78 yr-olds for one additional time as a couple, barely swaying and just holding their embrace. Yet, tonight, my experience of the dance-floor was yet again opened further. It began small, as most things do, with a slight toss of that softball shaped object from one friend to another. Then with instant observation the tidal wave began to form; two, four, eight, twenty; the objects flew like a jugglers pins. Up and down, into hands and onto floors, over shoulders with saving leaps, and with one final launch the anticipated happened to yours truly. With my eyes affixed on those orange globes moving to and fro my left eye went dark. Yes, it had happened, I had been hit; it felt so heavy and was there such a burning sensation in my eye. Oh, don’t worry, I just had blood-shot eyes for the rest of the night – great for publicity when you look like a drug addict.

Nevertheless, you might be asking what this was or you may have guessed it. It was a genetically altered orange and tell me again: “Why were there oranges at a wedding?”