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Wedding advice from the anniversary boy: Elope!

October 18, 2012 - Burton Cole (humor columnist)

I wanted to BE married. It was the GETTING married that drove me nuts. Now I am married and I've been driving her nuts. For four years as of today.

On this, our anniversary, I offer these excerpts from an Aug. 17, 2008, column about enduring the mysteries and mutterings of wedding plans:


I try to be helpful. Really, I do.

Take the tuxedo. I thought a 1970s theme would be cool since we both graduated high school back then.

"There are four of us on the guys' side," I said. "We could paint our faces and dress in the spandex, chains and leather of the metal band KISS."

"Yes, you could," she said. "But not at MY wedding."

I decided it best not to mention my idea for the bridesmaids – though I still think striking the "Charlie's Angels" pose would have been excellent.

It hardly seems fair that guys are allowed no input on the wedding gown, but the bride-to-be marches her man to multiple tuxedo shops as if he's her life-sized Ken doll.

"We already chose a tuxedo. Six weeks ago."

"We might find something we like better. Isn't this exciting!"

"Excruciatingly so."

When my beloved showed me the text she authored for the invitations, I was elated. I'm a writer. Finally, I could be useful.

Right off the bat, I caught an error: "'Honor' is misspelled in the line '... request the honour of your presence.'"

"That's the English spelling of honor. It's formal."

"How about if we spell 'presence' as 'presents'? It's more direct."

"Don't be crass," she said.

I retreated to my computer and set up the gift registry. I requested a rapid-fire digital camera and a loaded laptop computer, and closed the registry, planning to return after researching 7.1 Surround Sound systems.

It turns out that apparently we want dishes, towels and bed sheets. And a bread maker. Who knew?

The whole thing mystifies me. Everything.

"Our wedding colors will be periwinkle and sunflower," she told me.


"This." She passed over two strips of material.

"Oh, blue and yellow!"

The next day, a buddy asked if I'd been told my wedding colors yet.

"Blue and yellow. What were yours?"

"Purple and white."

"Bet that's not what she called them," I said.

"Lilac and cream, I think."

"Yep," I said. "Purple and white."


Four years and lots of lessons about periwinkle later, BEING married just gets better every day. Happy anniversary, Terry. I love you. But if we ever decide to renew our vows, let's elope.


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Four years ago today, Burt and Terry committed nuptialation under the colors of periwinkle and sunflower (or, as he calls them, blue and yellow).


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