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October 25, 2003

"Let Me Go Wild"

Last weekend, I was up in Long Island for a wedding, the guest of my friend Jen. Handsome groom, beautiful bride, I cried at the ceremony, there were tasty appetizers and free-flowing alcohol, as well as an ice sculpture. Since the groom was a big UT fan, the wedding took place on a non-game day. The use of Tennesee orange in the flowers and the wedding cake was remarkably restrained.

The DJ wasn't too annoying, although I hope my dance floor antics don't end up in the wedding video. The selection was a bit schizophrenic, going from Glenn Miller and polka to the Electric Slide and Enrique Iglesias to 80s music. I'd get up and dance, then find myself refusing to stay for the next song. I was about to head with Jen for her smoke break/escape from our table guests when ABBA came on over the speakers. I apologized - "I'm sorry, it's 'Dancing Queen'!" and promptly abandoned her for the dance floor. Later, it was the B-52s - you know when "Love Shack" comes on you simply must get up and gyrate, even if your dancing is like Fred Schneider singing.

The best musical moment, however, as a guest anyway, came just as the wedding cake was being served. I had just slipped off my strapless two-inch round-toe mules when I heard the opening strains of Violent Femmes. No way! "Blister in the Sun" at a wedding?!? You could feel and hear a collective gasp going through the room among people our age. We couldn't get to the dance floor fast enough. Somehow I managed to run in my heels and then contrive to stay in them while I practically jitterbugged. I didn't get any wedding cake, but the tradeoff was worth it.

Other random moments: the bagpipers serenading the bride and groom; the groom's guy friends dashing in to the theme from Hawaii Five-O and paddling like they were on a giant canoe, complete with miniature paddles; mortifying my tablemates with my ability to identify "Copacabana" within the first few beats, then revealing my new-found knowledge that an anagram of Barry Manilow is "Library Woman" (thanks, TinyLittleLibrarian!); "Rocky Top" as the penultimate dance floor song, which brought out the Tennessee folks in a big circle as the groom did reels with his friends. Ok, yeah, I sang along, but only the chorus.

Oh and then there was an afterparty that lasted till 3 a.m. I think I acquitted myself reasonably well.

Yours, &c., LC | 06:38 AM | Slice o' Life | TrackBack (0)

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