My brother gets married tomorrow, to a fabulous woman named Anne. I love them both and can’t wait until she’s in our family, so she can commence abusing him the way we big sisters always have. My daughter is one of her flower girls, and tomorrow is sure to be a long, exhausting day for all of us, and it’s going to be a blast.
In honor of the occasion, I wanted to post a wedding video. There’s “White Wedding,” of course, and that Dixie Chicks song from the awful Julia Roberts movie. I’m sure there are loads more. But none of them qualify so well as this 1986 classic from the Georgia Satellites: guys on a flatbed playing southern rock, tooling along a summer countryside, probably batting away mosquitoes and chiggers between guitar strums. Granted, this landscape looks too flat to be in Pennsylvania’s Monongahela Valley, but it’s pretty damned close, what with the rockin’ spirit, spiked punch, humidity and tradition. All that’s missing here is the rigatoni, halupkes, and tarantella.
So Anne and Jimmy, here’s your e-card. Yeah, yeah, you say you’re not producing any nieces and nephews for at least another twelve or so years, so no shotguns will be involved. But an auntie can dream.
P.S. SO EXCITED for the rigatoni. And also wedding soup. There better be wedding soup.