I had no idea planning a wedding required making so many decisions. Like, do you go down to the County Building and do the paperwork and ceremony before going to the watch repair shop? And how do you fit grocery shopping into the wedding day?
After 25 years together John and I finally tied the knot a couple weeks ago. I think we went into the whole wedding process thinking that it’d be pretty routine and anticlimactic. Because of that we opted to go downtown and have the county staff do the officiating, all without telling people we knew. (After a quarter century together can you still call it eloping?)
We went through the steps leading up to the ceremony, filling out the paperwork, enduring the unavoidable waiting, making the mound of decisions (Did we want an indoor or outdoor ceremony? Did we want to exchange rings? Did we want a video? Photos? Did we want to purchase a “Just Married” bumpersticker?). And as we were doing that, the seriousness and power of the what was about to happen started to hit us. We started to get nervous.
In line before us were two casually dressed women and their son who disappeared into a conference room for their ceremony. We’d opted for an outdoor wedding, and were soon escorted downstairs and out onto the county building’s sunny south lawn. Two men in tuxedos were finishing up their vows, and in a few minutes it would be our turn. After 25 years of making do, after 25 years of not being able to think that getting married was even an option, it would finally be happening.
The woman who would be officiating came over and introduced herself, and then we were introduced to our designated witness. We walked over to a sheltered spot that was shaded by leafy palm trees and backed by a lushly subtropical green backdrop of cannas, giant birds of paradise and large-leaved philodendrons that were taller than my head.
The rhythms of a marriage ceremony are usually predictable. The ceremony begins. The official sets the stage with words about how this is both a joyous and serious occasion, and then the official asks the couple about their commitment to each other. As we began to repeat the official’s words, were were saying words that we never thought we’d ever be permitted to utter except in parody. It all seemed at least a little unreal.
As in most other weddings, after the “I do’s,” all the good lines pass back to the official. The official comments on the situation and then intones the ones that signal that the ceremony is about to conclude: “by the powers granted me…” So there in the public garden, we were pronounced married. “You may now seal your vows with a kiss.” Spouse A and Spouse B.
People often badmouth government for what it doesn’t do, while at the same time they take for granted the many things it does and does well, competently, with compassion, grace, and utmost respect. That morning was one of those unsung, unremarked occurrences.
So, you might be wondering, what does an inexpensive walk-in wedding ceremony buy you in the county? For one, if you opt for having it done outdoors, you get a waterfront location, just across the street from the bay and the ships that make up the Maritime Museum. You get a nice garden setting with lush tropical plantings. You get a competent person who will conduct a brief but respectful ceremony. And you might even get as we did, a witness who, when handed your camera, turns out to be an accomplished and seriously underpaid wedding photographer. If you require an official minister or someone dressed as Elvis or Spock to officiate you’ll be out of luck. But we did just fine.
