FIC: The Gratuitous Dwanollah 90210 Episodes

Bells will be Ringin'!

Okay… let the wedding of Brandon and Kelly continue!

Darkness has fallen. All of the candles and twinkle-lights and lanterns have been lit, and the patio is awash in golden light. The champagne fountain is flowing, white-gloved waiters are passing silver trays, bartenders are serving up cocktails, and guests are dancing to the band playing another one of those ersatz versions of a wedding classic like “Just The Way You Are” or “Unchained Melody” or “You Are So Beautiful” because, as we discovered in our Wedding Planning, every single DJ and/or band that does weddings has pretty much the exact same repertoire of “classics” and they get seriously offended if you want to do something differently, and every single toolie DJ we interviewed got all pissy when we told them we didn’t WANT the same old collection of EZ-List’nin’ “love” songs – most of which make both me and THTM retch and/or break out in hives – and “fun” songs – which to them means the same old “YMCA” and “Shout” and “Celebrate” and “We are Family” – but, rather, in honor of how we met and our friends and stuff we wanted all-80’s music, most of which we’d provide from our own music collection. That was, in fact, the first decision we made re: the whole wedding, ‘way back when we first got engaged: Totally 80s Reception! “Well, no DJ likes to be pre-programmed” sniffed one Professional DJ in disdain when, during the interview, we posed our desire to provide our own set lists, not relying on young cousins’ well-meaning requests for the Macarena or their favorite rap group. Oh well. But, frankly, both of us hate the Chicken Dance and the Hokey Pokey and a lot of other stuff that most people expect to do at wedding receptions and, again frankly, we didn’t WANT to do what “most people” do at wedding receptions. So The Husband-Type Man, who was in charge of Dinner Music (amongst other things) put together a set of cocktail/dinner music (groovy moody stuff like Sting’s “Moon Over Bourbon Street” and k.d. lang’s “Last Cigarette”) and for the dancing we compiled a list of the best 80’s songs ever, stuff like “Cool Places” and “Love & Pride” and “Johnny Are You Queer?” along with the Ultravox and Bronski Beat and Echo and Roxy Music and The Cure – and, of course, lots of Duran Duran. No Hokey Pokey. No Chicken Dance. No Macarena. Everything that was played, rather than being “what everyone does at weddings,” instead had a great deal of personal significance to us... and, unlike my mother’s proclamation that if we didn’t have the Chicken Dance, there wouldn’t be anything fun, there were plenty of fun songs: “Jungle Boogie”... Meco’s disco version of the Star Wars Theme/Cantina Band... “Lowrider”... and, in honor of my favorite wedding movie of all time, “Dancing Queen” (“My life is better than an Abba song! It’s better than ‘Dancing Queen’!” – Muriel’s Wedding. Go, O Nancy My Nancy! You’re a bride! YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL!). And one friend provided us with a bootleg of the newest Duran album, so we world-premiered “Electric Barbarella” at our wedding reception... how kernifty is that for two dorky Durannies?

So, anyway, the earlier Donnantics and Hilarity and Hijinx have had no ill effects... in fact, there isn’t even a bit of spilled cake or champagne on Donna’s BM gown and her depression over the suicide of Poor Noah Hunter is dissipated as she quaffs the last of her champagne and tee hees, watching Brandon and Kelly out on the dance floor, swaying (but just barely ‘cos, well, Brandon and dancing, ‘member?) to “Here and Now” or “A Whole New World” or “Always and Forever” or something equally as barf-worthy. And as she stands there, Davy Silver sidles up next to her.

“Hey, Donna, I brought you another glass of champagne,” says Mr. Super-Friendly with a laugh and scratch.

“Thank you!” coos Donna, handing her empty glass to a passing waiter and gulping half of the new one down before giggling some more.

“Brandon and Kelly look pretty happy,” observes Davy. Like, gee, what a thing to say at a wedding.

“Don’t they?” agrees Donna. “They’re so perfect for each other. I know they’re going to be so happy together.”

And Davy laughs again, looks away, scratches behind his ear with a skull-ring’d finger and says “Yeah.” Then, after a big pause: “So, um, you wanna dance?”

“Sure,” says Donna. But first, she holds up one finger in a “wait a second” gesture, downs the rest of her champagne, and giggles. “Okay! Now I’m ready!” she tee hee hees, and she and Davy go whirling out on the dance floor to “My Girl” or “Endless Love” or anything that is considered the “theme of ____” (insert popular soap opera Supercouple) or something.

And I just want to take a moment to insert a blurb from the wedding newsletter that we did, because, after being saturated with lists of suggestions for the all-important “first dance” song, I grew rather disgusted with the whole “love song” thing. So, no deep personal offense meant, but... yes, straight from me an’ THTM’s Pre-Wedding Newsletter, here’s my list of:

The 10 Most Dysfunctional Contemporary Wedding Songs (circa 1997... I’m sure there are several new ones – like that piece of sentimental goo “Butterfly Kisses” or God-damned “My Heart Will Go On” – that’d’ve made it on here... and I couldn’t even *begin* to include all the “oldies” that make me twitch....)

  • “Unforgettable ,” Nat King Cole & Natalie Cole: Nat's version is a lovely, time-worn classic. But Natalie's redundant motif of singing love songs with her dead father is just a little, well, peculiar and kinda creepy.
  • “I Could Love You Like That,” All-4-One: I find this to be a rather pompous, self-serving concept for a love song. “Always ,” Atlantic Star: I loathe songs that specifically target wedding first-dances. Not only is this song overly-idealistic to a most laughable extreme, but, quite simply, it makes me want to puke.
  • “Saving All My Love for You ,” Whitney Houston: I have to laugh when I see this reappearing on lists of great songs to play for that first dance . . . it's about a woman involved in a severely emotionally unrewarding relationship with a married man! What kind of screwed-up message about love is this song sending? Oh, wait… this is coming from Mrs. Bobby Brown....
  • “Wind Beneath My Wings ,” Bette Midler: I, personally, would find it rather insulting that someone thought I was merely the vehicle for his/her Great Accomplishments!
  • “The Wedding Song ,” Kenny G.: Yuck, yuck yuuuuuck! Why must Kenny absolutely *wring* a melody for every drop of “emotion” that he can? And I hate to break it to everyone who believes Kenny to be the Ultimate Sensitive Jazz Musician, but he is not jazz! Just because you play a brass instrument does not make you jazz! Dudes, Kenny G BLOWS!
  • “(Everything I Do) I Do It For You ,” Bryan Adams: Bryan has assuredly found his niche in the music world: writing treacley, insipid ballads just for women who love teddy bears, use too many exclamation marks, and thought the book Bridges of Madison County was a touching and sensitive portrayal of love. Never trust a man who says what he thinks all women want to hear.
  • “To Really Love a Woman ,” Bryan Adams: Is he a lyrical genius or what? “Tell me have you ever really/really, really ever loved a woman”? Really, really, Bryan?
  • “Save the Best for Last ,” Vanessa Williams: Another lyrical virtuoso. “Sometimes the snow falls down in June/Sometimes the sun goes ‘round the moon.” Um, no it doesn’t, Vanessa. And even if it did, so what? How would that relate to the concept of “saving the best for last”? Your literary prowess here ranks right up with Alanis Morisette’s Ironic.
  • “When a Man Loves a Woman ,” Percy Sledge/Michael Bolton: “If she is bad, he can't see it/ She can do no wrong . . . .” Sorry, “true romantics,” but this feeling is not love; it’s self-destructive behavior based on total lack of self-esteem!

Honorable Mention:

  • “Every Breath You Take ,” The Police: Not that this isn’t a great song, but a *love* song? Listen to the lyrics. . . it’s about a stalker! (*Note: I was chuffed several years later to hear His Stinginess say as much in an interview. “Oh, that was your wedding song? Heh. Good luck!”)

Okay, so while Brandon and Kelly and Donna and Davy and Jim and Cindy and Jackie and Mel and Nat and Joanie and Mrs. Teasley and Mr. Meyers and whoever and whoever all dance ‘neath the stars, Stevie Sanders is standing off to the side of all the action, swigging a penis-boy cocktail like bourbon on the rocks or a scotch neat or something and popping little puff pastries by the fistful into his gaping maw.

“Well, Steven!” exclaims Devon Dean, sauntering over, looking oh-so-striking in his exquisitely tailored red silk tuxedo and understated white shirt.

“Hey, DD!” says Stevie. “What a spread, huh?”

And Devon Dean’s eyes momentarily glaze over. But he recovers and says “Yes, yes, it was a lovely wedding....”

“Yeah, I think Brandon and Kelly are gonna be really happy together,” muses Stevie. “You know... Kelly was my girlfriend, my first girlfriend, all the way back in high school....” he continues.

“Ah, no, I didn’t know that,” says DD politely.

“Yeah.” And Stevie’s looking remote and dreamy... well, as much as a self-centered Overt Penis Boy like him can. “You know, part of me has always loved her. Part of me always will, no matter how many Karas I date. You don’t get over a girl like Kelly easily.... But I’m really glad she hooked up with Brandon. They’re, you know, *meant* for each other.”

“Ah. Mmm hmm,” says Devon Dean.

But Stevie’s on a roll. “ Brandon’s always had it all... brains, grades, girls, success.... If he wasn’t my best friend, I’d probably hate his guts. But let me tell you, if you’ve got Brandon on your side, you’ve got everything you could ever want.”


“But now that he and Kelly are married, everything’s gonna be different. No more buddies hangin’ out watching the game... no more late nights playing pool... no more basketball games on Saturday afternoons....”

“Mmm hmm.”

“To be honest, I didn’t know what I was going to do or where I was going to go until you gave me the beach condo,” Stevie admits, downing some more of his drink.

Devon Dean perks up again. “So, you’re pleased with it?”

“Pleased? It’s awesome!” raves Stevie. “The stereo... the giant TV... the sauna... the gym.... I gotta ask Kara over to try out the whirlpool tub,” he adds, waggling his eyebrows all gross-like. Date-rape? What date-rape?! “Yeah, yeah, it’s gonna be quite the swingin’ bachelor pad!”

“I’m so glad you find the accommodations to your liking,” says DD, taking a literal step closer while figuratively sidestepping the mention of Steve’s supposed sort-of kind-of maybe not quite girlfriend Kara. “But if there’s anything you want changed, just say so. I have a friend whom is an interior decorator-” because, like, all gay men have “friends” who are interior decorators, don’t they?

“No way!” says Stevie. “It’s perfect!”

“Perhaps once you are all settled in, you’ll have a housewarming party...?” DD says slyly.

“Yeah, maybe,” says Stevie, still concentrating on his hors d’oeuvres and booze.

“In fact, I have a small housewarming gift for you,” continues DD. “Perhaps I can bring it by later this week?”

“Aw, man, you’ve already given me so much....” Stevie b.s.’s but he’s clearly drooling at the idea of more “loot.”

“Nonsense,” says DD. “Business at Peachy’s is surpassing all of my expectations. And I owe it all to you,” he says fondly, raising one hand to touch Stevie’s shoulder-

But Stevie, not noticing, jumps forward. “Hey! It’s time for the garter toss! I’ll see you later!” and he bounds off hoping to get vicarious thrills from Kelly’s silk-stocking-clad leg or something.

So the band leader is inviting Brandon and Kelly onto the raised dais with much fanfare and ballyhooing and someone strikes up David Rose’s “The Stripper” and, while the bandleader makes stupid cracks and everyone cheers him on, Brandon does the Macho-but-Trying-to-be-Deprecating removal of the garter (and thank God Stevie “Down Wit’ OPB” Sanders ain’t the groom ‘cos otherwise we’d be subjected to the nauseating taking-it-off-with-his-teeth bit) and Kelly squeaks and squeals and pretends to protest but is really eating up all this attention with a great big spoon. And Brandon twirls the garter around his finger before *fwing*ing it out into the crowd of single men and Stevie and Davy tussle and Davy comes up triumphant. And then it’s Kelly’s turn to pitch her bouquet and she squeals and giggles before heaving it over her shoulder at the single women and Donna lurches forward and catches it and jumps up and down because all girlies dream of catching the bouquet-

Which reminds me of the in-depth conversation I had with the Moron-DJ we finally ended up with, after the one we’d hired pulled an ol’ switcheroo a few days before.... (See, in the wedding-planning process, we divvied up things, and I did vendor-related stuff with music and flowers while THTM did food/drink and honeymoon.) Anyway, I made it very very VERY clear to DJ Dave – and yes, that was what he called himself, “DJ Dave” – that we didn’t want the usual Wedding Shenanigans, that this wasn’t a bride-centered function, that we didn’t want sexist jokes and goofy things like Wedding Trivia Questions with prizes or the guy who caught the garter dancing with the girl who caught the bouquet, and we weren’t going to smash cake in each other’s faces and we wanted a lot of the Traditional Wedding stuff like that to be downplayed, so would he just pretty much keep things quiet and simple, and just play music and make the occasional announcement? Well, it could’ve been much worse, but DJ Dave had Typical DJ Syndrome and, despite earlier assurances that he would “just play the music” he attempted to ham things up a couple times (and he wondered why his usual antics fell flat...? Gee, not the Usual Wedding Crowd, you twit?). He tried doing some of his usual Wedding Patter with us before things got going, in fact… introducing himself and “You can call me Dave or you can call me DJ or you can call me DJ Dave or you can call me-” And my mom said, “Can I call you Bob?” Which is a family joke, because we will refer to any dumb person as “Bob,” like “Way to go, Bob!” or “S/he must be, like, Bob 4.” But DJ Dave was dumb and oblivious, so when he did the same DJ Shtick during the reception, he added “The bride’s mother wanted to know if she could call me Bob!” thinking he was being really cute. And he seemed to think his awesome DJ personality was validated by the roar of laughter from our family, but… dude, you just announced to 3 generations that my mom thinks you’re an ass.

So when we did the Garter/Bouquet thing, which we wanted very quick, low-key and mellow, not hyper, adolescent and stupid, he had to go into a Whole Big Spiel about how “Guys, if the garter comes to you, it’s yours! No throwing it at someone else” because guys run screaming at the stigma of being “next to marry.” And then he said “Girls, no kicking and fighting over the bouquet! I don’t want to see any casualties!” because girlies froth at the mouth and turn into Raving Maniacs at the thought of being the next to marry.


The poor, dumb fellow didn’t take me seriously when I told him this wasn’t the Typical Wedding Crowd. See, all of my friends/Bridesmaids and I aren’t exactly the ardent wife-and-mother types, and, while the ice-rink in Hell is pretty close to finished, no one was in a rush to get to the alter next. And The Husband-Type Man’s Groomsmen, all of whom have been buds since the 9 th grade Dungeons & Dragons days and some much longer, and who hardly ever get to see each other ‘cos they’re all scattered across the country at various grad schools/jobs so they were all just really happy to be hanging out and everything (plus THTM was the first of them to get married). So, Dumb DJ Dave makes his speech, and everyone who knows us and knows our friends was pretty much “yeah, right, dude... SHUT UP!” and THTM does the garter thing and there is, like, a battle between my brother and his brother for it, with the other groomsmen and my best man and my mom and two aunts and married uncle all in there fighting the good fight, and my brother finally got it, stretched it waaaaay out and pulled it around his head, and proceeded to mosh. And then when I threw my bouquet, the BMs were lined up in the front... and I pitched... and they all just stood there with their hands behind their backs and watched it fall on the floor which, mebbe you had to be there or know my friends or something, was one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen in my life, especially after Dumbshit DJ Dave’s announcements. So I had to pitch it again and it practically whacked Erikka in the head before she accepted the inevitable and “caught” it. And then when we were cutting the cake, the stupid DJ actually berated us for not smashing it in each other’s faces: “Aw, c’mon, that was pretty tame!” and several guests groaned at the dumb DJ and THTM’s best man actually went over and told him to calm down the Wedding Antic crap at that point. Sorry, but cake-smashing is one of the most juvenile, boorish and disrespectful things to do at a wedding.

Oh, and we didn’t use none o’ the typical music for the Bouquet Toss (suggested tunes: “Girls Night Out” by the Judds or “California Girls” by the Beach Boys. Eyew) and Garter Toss (like “Whoomp! There It Is” or “She’s Got Legs”... *shudder*) and Cake Cutting songs (I didn’t realize that “The Bride Cuts the Cake” that you always hear about is actually sung to the tune of “The Farmer in the Dell” complete with “High-ho the derry-o” or “merry-o” or whatever). We used Frank Sinatra’s “Love & Marriage” for the cake-cutting ‘cos it went with our goofy cocktail music from earlier, and THTM picked the U2 version of “Mission Impossible” for the garter (which, I actually, wasn’t too keen on doing in the first place, but he begged. Begged! Sad, innit? Such a piggish boy….). And for the bouquet toss, well.... I honored my friends by playing something to commemorate the many evenings we’d hung out with a bag of Oreos on Wednesday nights: the theme song from “ Beverly Hills 90210.”

So Donna and Davy have the prized wedding loot and they hug, all embarrassed, and dance together before the bandleader announces that the next dance is just for “the new Mr. and Mrs. Brandon Walsh” and starts playing one of those grody “first-dance” songs like “Hopelessly Devoted To You” or “I Can't Help Falling In Love With You” or “Lady” (which is another Honorable Mention for my List... I mean, Kenny....? “I’m your knight in shining armor”...? Oh, ARE you, O Modest One? I wouldn’t bet on it!) and everyone surrounds them while they sway together and Kelly beams and tries to get Brandon to kiss her with everyone watching and Brandon looks slightly uncomfortable but acquiesces and pecks her quickly and everyone sighs at the romance of it all and claps and cheers and Kelly tries again to look demure but is too smugly pleased with herself to really pull it off.

Incidentally, our first-dance song was a bootleg recording of an acoustic Duran show (well, Simon and Warren) that The Husband-Type Man and I went to on one of our first dates... a gorgeous version of “Thank You” with just Warren’s guitar and a French horn. But then as a surprise, well... okay, lemme start at the beginning. See, THTM’s dancing is, um... ah... to put it bluntly, kinda a family joke – a kind one, but a joke nonetheless. The man has no rhythm... I mean, face it, “Pretty Fly for a White Guy” had to be written for him! So, several months before our wedding, THTM decided he wanted to learn to REALLY dance, so he suggested we take waltz lessons and had a simple dance choreographed for us and, since we didn’t exactly have room in our apartment to practice, we’d take the portable CD player out to the park and practice there, and that’s actually one of my favorite Wedding Memories, ‘cos we’d get up early and go practice for an hour or so on a sunny weekend morning and then go to breakfast or something, or would sneak off after dinner before the sun set and dance together in the park. And the Quest for Just the Right Song was rather entertaining as well... we tried a couple things but nothing was Just Right until one weekend when I was in San Diego and THTM drove down to meet me and begged me to go for a quick drive because he’d found “The Song!” and we drove over to an empty grocery store parking lot and he played a new CD he’d just gotten, Enya’s “China Roses,” for me, blasting it on the car stereo, and swept me up in a waltz around the parking lot, and that was it. So after our first dance song, with no Big Announcement, we went into our little much-practiced waltz (whispering “ONE two three ONE two three” to each other on the dance floor) and it took everyone by surprise and once they realized what was going on, they applauded every spin and glide and turn we made (and on the video you can see us gearing up for the Final Big Impressive promenade and everyone just breaks into cheers), and his mom was exclaiming “That’s not my son! That can’t be my son!” and The Husband-Type Man finally put the Family Gossip re: his dancing skills (or lack thereof) to rest... at least for the time being. Or until he cues up “Rockberry Jam” at a party, dear God.

Dancing in the park with THTM is one of my Happiest Memories of All, actually!

So it’s time now for the toasts, and Best Man Stevie Sanders kicks ‘em off with the usual string of clichés about “best friends” and all that (I gotta add, THTM’s best man Ben gave a most kick-ass toast, including an insult to the DJ, as well as personal anecdotes for THTM, but I won’t subject y’all to a word-for-word) and then Donna toasts them because “they have what everyone here wants... true love” in yet another bashing-the-audience-over-the-head-with-the-fact-that-Kelly-and-Brandon-are-the-Perfect-Couple (which, actually, always makes me really suspicious about the whole “facade” of a couple versus the reality, because in my most dysfunctional relationship, all I heard from friends was that we were the “Perfect Couple,” and I actually relied heavily on that image when I questioned what I was doing in this crappy relationship where I felt unloved and taken for granted 99.9% of the time. And I hope everyone here realizes that I’m including the Wedding Rants to bash on wedding traditions and The Wedding Industry, not to perpetuate this Image of me and The Husband-Type Man as a ____ couple!) and then Jimbo toasts Brandon’s “success” and “talents” and Kelly’s “beauty – inner and outer” and her ability “to make our son so very happy” (see my rant about “Wind Beneath My Wings,” okay?) and how he’s looking forward to the family they’ll be raising and Cindy meanwhile hesitates, all unresolved about the Brinda-pregnancy issue, and then Mr. Bill Taylor is toasting his “beautiful” daughter and making a few self-deprecating comments about his own failures and a husband and father before congratulating Kelly for “picking herself one of the good ones” which would make me really hope he’s referring to boogers, not Brandon (Thank You, God, that My Dumb Dad never attempted a toast. Thank You.) because Kelly’s achievements and successes are all centered on who she marries and then Nat with an adoring Joanie on his arm toasts Brandon, babbling about “how hard he’s worked” and “all he’s done” for him over the years and he’s loved “watching him grow up” and then he throws in a comment about Kelly, or, as he calls her, “this little lady here” and how happy she’s made Brandon and how lucky she is to be married to Brandon before turning back to the subject of Brandon’s Wonderfulness and, Nat’s “really gonna miss these guys” because he’s retiring from the Peach Pit and moving away but he’ll “never forget all the good times we’ve had” and in honor of Brandon’s marriage Nat wants to “give Brandon something to remember me and the old days at the Peach Pit” by... and with a flourish, Nat presents Brandon with his coffee pot. And everyone “aw”s and claps some more and then the band strikes up yet another Traditional Wedding Love Song like “True Love” or “Truly” or something else truly vomitous.

And Davy and Donna are amongst the couples out on the floor dancing, Donna’s Upstanding Breasticles are thrust against Davy’s big ‘n baggy suit jacket and she’s Semi-Drunk and giggling cutely and leaning against Davy a little and Donna says “I’m just so happy for them” and Davy says “Yeah... they’re lucky... they’ve got it all. They’re made for each other” and Donna says “Yeah... you know, David, I used to think the same thing about us” and Davy sniggers and looks away and says “Yeah, me too... I always wonder what might’ve been” and then he pauses for a moment before he says “How’re you doing without Noah?” and Donna sighs and says “I’m trying to cope... it’s just been so lonely.... But... you know, I loved Noah... but I never really felt like we were meant to be together forever,” and one of my ALL TIME BIGGEST PET PEEVES about 90210 is how they continue to perpetuate the “meant to be together” and “made for each other” and “I know we’ll be together forever” clichés that have caused many many many teenaged girls (and not-so-teenaged girls and women and boys and men as well) so much grief because we’re made to think that a really intense flutter of the loins equals “soulmate” and it’s significant to be “a perfect couple” and if you don’t “swing from the chandeliers” all the time that your relationship somehow lacks “magic” and no matter how many times your boyfriend lies or cheats on you it’s ultimately okay if you “really love him” and essentially all the focus is on the cursory, Idealistic Issues of relationships, not the individual realities....) and then Davy says “did you ever feel that way about us? That we were meant to be together forever?” and Donna is all vulnerable and says “Did you?” and Davy laughs and says “I asked first” and Donna says “I did....” and Davy says “So did I....” and then he says “I can’t imagine you not being a part of my life, Donna” and Donna accepts these selfish Davy standards by saying “Neither can I” and they’re both whispering really intently or something to each other as they dance under the stars at Kelly and Brandon’s wedding and then Davy says “You’ve always been there for me... even when I thought I didn’t want you to be....” and Donna continues to accept these Selfish Davy Standards as a compliment to her Generosity and Goodness and says “I always will be there for you, David. We’ve been through so much together... we have so much history” in yet another 90210 Relationship Stereotype and Davy and Donna’s faces are getting closer and closer and Davy says “Please come back, Donna... I need you... I love you” and Donna whispers all moist-eyed and sticky-lipped “I love you too David” and the music soars as they start going at it, Donna doing that tongue-lurching French kissing that makes my skin crawl... and off to the side of the dance floor, Felice and John Martin watch, Dr. Martin kind of smiling and saying “well, well, well” and Felice huffing and shifting, disapproval written all over her face-lifted face.

But Felice Martin’s displeasure is gonna have to wait, because there in the center of the dance floor, with the glittering lights of a thousand candles flickering and all their family and friends around them are the New Mr. and Mrs. Brandon Walsh dancing and, spontaneously, they kiss, while everyone breaks into more applause and shooting stars zing overhead and a great display of fireworks go off in a shower of color over Casa Walsh and the lion lies down with the lamb and world peace is declared and the conflicted leaders of the Middle East meet in a reconciliatory hug and cures for all terminal diseases are found and Bloods and Crips end their warfare and it’s discovered that what we thought was the Greenhouse Effect is really just a big mass of Warm Fuzzies making its way around the world because today Brandon and Kelly got married.

So there it is... my version of the anticipated wedding, the expected wedding, the wedding that We the TV Viewers felt we were cheated out of with that mockery of a Non-Wedding Wedding. (Sally, I’m with you... not that I think the show should do what we “expect” or “want” all the time, but this whole Non-Wedding Wedding – after YEARS of build-up – was a pathetic farce. What was the point? They should’ve married Kelly and Brandon off and ended the show then. Plus, after Brinda’s Non-Wedding Wedding to Stuart, the motif of “calling off the wedding at the last minute” was not only overused in the general sense, or even in regards to the show, but overused in regards to the damned Walsh family! Like that really happens in real life? Look at my 19-year-old cousin who, the night before, was crying to me about “getting married too young” but refused to call things off or postpone because “things’ll work out” and her parents had “spent so much money”... in the real world, calling off a wedding at the alter is pretty much unthinkable unless the circumstances are extreme.)

And I’m glad my Wedding Rants provided some entertainment... I wasn’t consciously trying to make them xix-ish... that’s Sacred Ground... but I’d thought about a Wedding Rant Web Page or something after our Experiences with the Sexist Wedding Industry, and also because we had a lot of Durannie friends who couldn’t make it to the wedding, but, ah, who had the time, what with school and all? So I threw a lot of ‘em in here instead. I’d even had a few things already written/journaled, and it was a kick to go back through some old things and remember “oh yeah, when Mom won the money for my wedding gown playing Keno the day after we put it on layaway” or “oh, yeah, when THTM ordered the napkins and had to spend a half-hour convincing the vendor that she didn’t need to call and check with the bride about the colors he’d picked because she was too busy working on final papers to care and he was perfectly capable of picking out NAPKINS f’Gawd’s sake!” And all the books on “How to Plan the Most Totally Perfect Dream Wedding Any Bride Ever Had”...! Oh, the Wedding Madness.... But, ‘cept for my Dumb Dad and his brief but annoying antics, The Husband-Type Man and I actually had such a fun year planning our wedding and writing the ceremony, with the focus being on keeping things Personal and Unique. THTM just talked to a friend he hasn’t seen since the wedding, and Mike told him that he and his wife have been to, like, four weddings since ours and “it doesn’t take long for conversation to turn to yours and how much better it was” because “it was so personal.” So it makes both of us feel good that what we hoped to communicate about ourselves and each other through our ceremony and celebration came across.


So, therapeutic and fun as this Wedding Episode has been, I gotta take a week or so off before The Child Custody Battle Episode.... *phew*


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