I am going to a wedding tonight.
The first wedding I ever attended was back when I was five, and apparently I was not a hit. At one point, so I am told, my brother (the groom) was seen choking me and my mother had to intercede. "He can't breathe," she said. "That's the idea," he responded.
Apparently, standing on the altar and mocking a rabbi isn't a good idea. Nor is climbing along the railing during the services. Being loud and obnoxious at hushed religious moments aren't considered kosher, either. However, I will maintain to this day that while I remember little about my conduct at that affair, one thing I do remember is the sound of chuckling. It was God. I think God had put me up to it, maybe to remind people not to take things so seriously. Maybe to enjoy the absurdity of a moment. Maybe to warn the bride and groom against having children of their own. Or perhaps, just His way of saying to my brother: "...there, now take that."
And strangely, though I am now fifty three, members of the family still throw the behavior of that five year old in my face. In fact, I received a letter from President Bush recently warning me from attending the wedding of his daughter.
So, tonight, I am off to another wedding. I will go and smile, sit quietly as the bride and groom are wed, and do what all other guests do...save their inappropriate and obnoxious behavior for the reception. And friends, I plan on being extremely obnoxious. Somewhere inside of me, a five year old boy is rubbing his sticky little hands together in sublime anticipation.