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Jewish World Review Oct. 22, 2004 / 6 Mar-Cheshvan, 5765
Lori Borgman
Newlyweds memories not always first-class
http://www.NewsAndOpinion.com |
Someone at the table asks where the bride and groom are going on their
honeymoon. A voice in the know says they are going on some cruise to some
island some place. It is one of those places that is hot and humid and has
an exotic name that doubles as a mixed drink something like Tahiti or
Daiquiri or Kahlua.
"That's nice," says the woman to my right, taking a sip from her
water glass.
"That's nice," says the woman to my left, spearing a cherry tomato with her
salad fork.
They both say it with all the excitement of a woman scheduling an
appointment for a mammogram.
There was a time when people jumped up and down over news of an
ocean cruise. Being on a big ship, drinking out of a coconut, ice
sculptures on the buffet table next to the smoked salmon used to be a big
deal. Now it seems part and parcel of the entire wedding package.
Honeymoon in Hawaii? Yawn.
Going to the Caribbean? Could you pass the Sweet'N Low on your way out the
door?
"So, where did you go on your honeymoon?" I ask the couple to my left.
She giggles and he answers.
"That was 28 years ago. We had just graduated from college. I was going on
to grad school and we didn't have much money. We were married in Chicago
and stayed at a hotel by the O'Hare Airport."
"I got sick," the wife says. "He spent the weekend sitting on the end of
the bed watching baseball games on television."
"Cleveland played the White Sox," he says. "The center fielder for
Cleveland had a really good bunt."
"Where did you go on your honeymoon?" I ask the couple to the right.
"I had just finished college and he was in the middle of seminary. He had
an internship with a church in Washington, D.C. My grandma lived there, so
she cleared out and gave us the keys to her house for a few days. She was a
prankster and put wire coat hangars under the sheets."
He laughs. She laughs. The entire table laughs, and the woman
turns as red as the cherry tomato she has on her fork.
I ask another couple where they went for their honeymoon. "We went
camping," he says.
"It rained every day and I'm still mad," she says. They both laugh.
"Where did you go on your honeymoon?" someone asks.
"We came back to the Midwest to get married," I answer. "The flight taking
us back to our jobs on the West Coast made a stop in San Francisco so we
did, too. We stayed at the Mark Twain hotel. It was directly across the
street from the bus station. There were cigarette burns in the sheets,
holes in the ceiling so you could see through to the roof, and the airline
lost our luggage."
Everyone is laughing and shaking their heads.
"I suppose this young couple will fly first class," someone says.
"Probably."
"I suppose they'll have lovely accommodations and a beautiful room."
"Probably."
"There will probably be gourmet food and polite porters."
"Probably."
Poor kids. Hope they have some decent stories to tell 20 years
from now.
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