Jewish World Review Oct. 22, 2004 / 6 Mar-Cheshvan, 5765

Lori Borgman

Lori Borgman
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Consumer Reports

Newlyweds memories not always first-class | 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.

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"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.


"I suppose they'll have lovely accommodations and a beautiful room."


"There will probably be gourmet food and polite porters."


Poor kids. Hope they have some decent stories to tell 20 years from now.

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JWR contributor Lori Borgman is the author of , most recently, "Pass the Faith, Please" (Click HERE to purchase. Sales help fund JWR.) and I Was a Better Mother Before I Had Kids To comment, please click here. To visit her website click here.


© 2004, Lori Borgman