Irecently got one of those “Save the Date” cards in the mail, and it got me thinking. Like everyone else around here, I’ve been in my fair share of weddings. My debut occurred at age 6, when I helped my cousins decorate the groom’s car and took a huge bite of what really looked like whipped cream. At a reception a few years later, I helped my sister frantically look for her missing press-on fingernail near the punchbowl where she was serving. We always wondered where it went.
I’ve worn several wedding hats. I have co-presided with a rent-a-preacher at a friend’s nuptials. Once as the head usher I had to restore order when a grasshopper jumped out of the bride’s bouquet during the vows. Another time I had to edit on the fly while reading from Genesis 2 because the wedding planner forgot to tell me to cut verse 25: “The man and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame.”
I’ve led a prayer while dripping in 105-degree heat at an August ceremony and watched bridesmaids’ high heels sink in the mud during a wedding-day monsoon. I’ve held the door while a maid of honor rushed out mid-vows to get the ring. I’ve made toasts, stuffed invitations, put up acres of white trellis, pocketed chicken fingers — man, were they good — and once, just once mind you, got carried away in a photo shoot and kissed the bride. With the modest exception of actually being a groom, I’ve done it all.
So I thought I was up on all the latest matrimonial trends. Until somebody told me about Unity Sand.
You know the old Unity Candle service. During the wedding both sets of parents light candles and then sit back down to figure out how long they have before these kids ask for more money. From these parental flickers, the bride and groom ignite a central flame, symbolizing the fact that someone always forgets to turn off the podium AC vent so nothing will stay lit. I mean, symbolizing eternal union and stuff.
But apparently now it’s out with the candles and in with the sand. These days the ceremony goes like this. The parents pour colored sand from one vase (pronounced “voz”) into a large central jar (pronounced “pricey art glass”). Next the minister sprinkles in sand of yet another color to represent a solid foundation. After the bride puts in her sparkly grains, the groom adds his, and the end result is a lovely swirled sand painting like artists used to sell in Atlantic City. That is, unless the couple gets weepy during the service. Then the result is Unity Mud.
There are, of course, websites that tell you how to do all of this, and professional designers to recommend expensive custom sand patterns. “Mountain Sunrise,” “New Earth” and “Lotus Dream” are current favorites. The latter, we are told, “mixes tranquil and playful moods, showing the blend of emotions present on your big day.”
The audience, meanwhile, has to keep a straight face during all of this.
I have a much more practical suggestion. How about a Unity Poundcake? This gives everyone something to do. The parents pour in sugar and eggs, the flour girl tosses in her ingredient, the best man adds some butter, the maid of honor brings a 1/2 cup of vegetable shortening, the minister contributes milk of human kindness, and the bride and groom can each let fall a tender drop of vanilla extract.
The best part is that, while the wedding party takes an hour and half for photographs, the cake can be baking in the oven and ready for the starving guests.
Yes, I know that it’s bad form for a wise guy who has never taken the plunge to mock couples who are just trying to think outside of the sandbox at their weddings. I’m sorry, but I simply cannot bury my head in the sand while these corny traditions take root. After watching a painful YouTube video of some poor couple pounding on their vases for six minutes, trying to dislodge sand that had gotten stuck, I must try to nip this thing in the bud. Otherwise, I fear that today’s sand-swept couples will someday cringe at their wedding videos, which will haunt them all the Days of their Lives.
