I can't think of many things more vulgar than a wedding. Nor can I see any real purpose for marriage - it has to be one of the most pointless endeavors that mankind invented and continues to involve itself in unquestioningly. Unlike breeding, marriage is certainly not a natural instinct or even - arguably - a natural state.
The only reason that marriage exists is that 'love', or that initial giddiness and euphoria, is the most powerful intoxicant known to man and, as Hunter S. said in 'Fear and Loathing', "When you get locked into a serious drug binge, your tendency is to push it as far as it will go." So somebody invented 'marriage' as a way to push it further and it became a societal norm.
People in love are like drunk chicks at Mardi Gras who expose their tits to proudly show everyone how embarrassingly drunk they are. Weddings are the terri-cloth tube top of love, waiting to be yanked down in front all your closest friends who now have to act amused.
Weddings are like having to watch two people make out on a bus all day, only now you have to dress up, bring gifts and pretend you're not bored and disgusted.
I got married three days ago, March 26th, 2002.
I asked Renee if she really wanted to do it and she said she did. She knew I was already legally married to a girl I'd known 14 years prior. I'd known her for a couple weeks when I was working phone rooms in Vegas in '87. We got drunk and got married one night just cuz it sounded like a funny thing to do. A year and a half later we moved to Idaho because I thought it sounded like a funny place to move. Then she left me for my best friend which wasn't nearly as funny but at least she went away. Sometimes the people who go along with what I think is funny are just insane people.
"It won't be legal, though, will it?" she asked.
"Baby," I said ( I too often begin sentences with 'Baby" and should try to avoid that), "We'll be doing drugs in Alaska on New Years. That won't be legal either but we're still gonna be high."
I didn't need to say anything else. She gets it. That's why we're together.
The only thing more pointless than marriage is "legal' marriage. (Remember, when I write "legal" to read it with a sarcastic, mocking tone that drags it out to sound 'leeegal' with a sneer.) What is the benefit in bringing law and government into your love life? What is it any business of theirs? When have you ever had to go to a courthouse and it was good? And when a relationship goes bad (no, it couldn't possibly happen to us), do you really need a lawyer to make it official? Good fuck, think about it.
The institution of marriage is a fictional union, like joining a gang or a fraternity. It is what you want from it personally, but unlike a corporation or the military, it holds no obligations to those outside the agreement. As much as a marriage might mean to you, the simple fact is that you cannot commit to an emotion. You can't force yourself to love someone as much as you can't force yourself to be sad or afraid. "Legally" marrying someone is like signing a contract promising to be 'lucky'. Forever.
"So it's not a 'real' marriage" I am told, over and over.
A 'legal' marriage is necessary when you are marrying someone to get them citizenship. It is necessary when you are marrying an 80 year old terminal cancer patient for his money. It's certainly necessary for the Appalachian hillbilly who takes a 14-year-old wife he'd have gone to jail for fucking without the arbitrary title, one word and a 10 dollar license the difference between husband and child molester. It is necessary for tax breaks and insurance or if you just want to join a club where homos aren't allowed.
So why would I involve myself in something that I seem so violently against? Because we are in love and wanted everyone to watch us make out on a bus all day. But instead of gifts and your nicest clothes, we had comedy, booze, drugs and a mad rocking band with a fat, naked Elvis impersonator who ran most of the people out before they could even see him swill a warm glass of his own urine.
If we are going to impose on our friends, we'll try like hell to make it worth their while, not act like it's very important for them to share in a 'celebration of our love'. We are simply stealing your word and taking the piss out of it. We left most of the gunky sentiment out of it. It's boring and gross to listen to people pine on in public about what their love means to each other. If I'm going to privy to the most intimate and personal details of someones relationship, frankly I'd rather just watch you fuck.
The Extreme Elvis band kicked off the show at 8:15 or so, sans EE himself, and jammed for a bit before the comedy. This band absolutely rocks. I was a bit fucked up myself and trying to keep it chaotic while also attempting to make normal with the in-laws. Grandma was a no-show but the Mom/Step-Dad, Dad/Step-Mom contingents were there and seemed to be able to hang with everything ok.
I started the show, rambling on and dealing with hecklers, before bringing up the line-up of Ralphie May, Sean Rouse, Henry Phillips and Andy Andrist. They all killed anyone who was listening, which wasn't as many as the night went on and people were getting twisted. Renee's bride's maid faculty was full of liquor and ecstasy and went from loud to outright obnoxious heckling. Good thing Rogan wasn't there was all I could think, or too bad he wasn't, depending on how you look at it.
As the crowd got shitty, so did I and I really couldn't tell you half of what i did for a set. My friends Erica and Steve came out with their sound guy Kelly and filmed it documentary-style so one day I'll be able to see how sloppy it all was.
Father Luke came up after the comedy to do the ceremony and I remember it dragged on loud with hecklers and Father Luke taking his beautiful, sweet-ass time. Chaos. We were married and the hard parts were over. Joe Vernon, my number one fan won the high-hand best man poker competition with a king-high flush earlier and gave a great toast while Renee heaved her wedding bouquet at a table, knocking their drink over in their laps.
But the night was far from over. Let's face it, this night, for al the stories that will be told, was about Extreme Elvis. The seven-piece band drove down nine hours from San Francisco and absolutely ruined the place. I will always be indebted to Tommy Rocker, and hopefully not in a 'legal' way. He didn't have any idea what to expect and I didn't know how far it would go so I just opted to say nothing. By the time the shit hit the fan, I was too drunk to say anything anyway.
Most of the later recollections of the night are in still-photo memories or simply from re-tellings of more sober witnesses. I remember that around the third song, EE was already naked and pissing in a 16 ounce beer glass. He then swilled it, slobbering half of it down his sweating, death-white, bloated torso and passed it to Ann, a singer in the band. She took a swig herself and it was around then that Renee's parents decided that maybe it was time to head out. In fact I was surprised at how many of the younger, more bent members of the audience left with them. Pussies. No appreciation for art.
I also remember EE having two fingers jammed in his pock-marked ass but didn't notice when he sauntered thru the crowd afterwards fingering things on peoples tables with the same hand, at one point picking up someones cell phone and using it like a bar of soap in his steamy armpit. I heard all of that second-hand and not always in a tone of gushing adoration like I would have.
I was out saying my goodbyes to the parents when it got ugly. Evidently EE was up naked on the bar hurling cocktail olives and whatnot at the crowd. The whole band was naked when I walked back in and Tommy was shitting his pants wondering how to pull the plug on the whole thing. EE had evidently pulled Ann's tampon out with his teeth, paraded it around all blood n crusty like a dead mouse before chewing it up and spitting it out. Not the regular fare for Tommy Rockers, a usually stayed place for 30 somethings who like Jimmy Buffet and the occasional one-drink-too-many.
Friday, March 29, 2002 at 9:42AM