As the Father of the Bride, I was responsible for not over-imbibing prior to saying a few words. This mission accomplished, I removed the cushion from my chair and stood on it so I could better connect with the audience. And, of course, to short circuit the usual catcalls requesting that I stand up after I am already standing.
I tried the mike, but the DJ had yet to figure out his rented equipment, so I chose to use a loud voice rather than subject everyone to feedback. All those years of soccer-coach vocal training paid off. And this is what I said.
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I am a little surprised that I am speaking here at Katie and Scott’s wedding. You see, when Kate defended her dissertation, Mary asked if we could be present.
“Sure,” said Kate. “On one condition.”
“What’s that?” inquired Mary.
“That Dad doesn’t say a word.”
So when I found out I would be allowed to say a few words, I sat and wrote down a few thoughts. (At this point, I pulled my 3 by 5 cards out of my pocket. Ten of them were connected together, so when I put them out in front of me to read, they flip-flopped down in a chain, as if I was going to read a very long speech.)
But I was told that time was limited, so I created a short version. (Here, I threw the connected cards over my shoulder. Much later, at the bar, Russ, for whom I had been best man 30 years ago, called me to task over using a very similar joke at his wedding. Geez! I’m not allowed to repeat the same joke after 30 years? Half the people at the wedding weren’t born the last time I used it!)
Unfortunately, I don’t know Scott as well as Katie, so I have a little less to say about him. Count your blessings, Scott. But Kate, I want you to work your magic on Scott just the way you did on your Mom when you were 3 years old.
Mary used to smoke, but Katie never liked it. “That stinks,” she used to say. In fact, she said it often. She was constantly on her mother whenever she smoked. She was so insistent that Mary eventually succumbed to the pressure.
I want you to do the same for Scott. Not only for the health benefits, but also to keep him out of trouble. You see, one weekend when we were at our place in the Adirondacks, some Jersey Boys who had obviously never spent any time in the woods were renting the cabin next door. Paddling back to their place after dark, and completely unaware of how sound travels over placid water, they encountered nearly-invisible Scott, smoking on the dock.
“Look at that guy!”
“What guy?”
“That guy smoking. On the dock.”
“Wow. Yeah. Don’t get close. He looks like a serial killer.”
So Kate, please get him to stop smoking, thus keeping Scott from being a serial killer.
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Scott, I want you to know some background details on Katie that we may have failed to mention previously.
Shortly after Katie turned 7, we went to Lapland Lake to go cross-country skiing. We drove up to the little hut where the money was collected, and noted that under-7 was free. I rolled down my window. The man looked in the window and said, “Two adults,” and looking into the back, said, “and she’s under seven.”
“No, No, No!” came the little voice from the back, "I’m seven!” The man laughed, took the money for the two adults, and waived us on.
We were soon on our skis, trekking through the woods. As we graduated from the novice to the intermediate trail, first Mary and then I went up a small but challenging hill. Kate stopped at the bottom.
“Come on, Kate,” I said, encouragingly. “You can do it!”
She shook her head and said, “Oh, no. I can’t. I’m too little. I'm not seven.”
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When Katie was 10, I asked her if she would like to go with me to one of my over-40 soccer games.
“Sure, Dad,” she said cheerfully. “Someone needs to be there to dial 911.”
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When Kate was playing soccer in college, her team had a game at Northeastern University. It was a rough game, and the ref was calling next-to-nothing against the home team. Finally, Kate had just about enough, and after being brutally fouled yet again, she retaliated. The ref ran over and immediately gave her a yellow card.
“Ref,” said Katie, turning to look him in the eyes, “That’s the only good call you’ve made all game!”
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I wish you two the best of luck.
(I got down off the chair, allowing the best man and maid of honor deliver their heartfelt and touching best wishes.)
