Opinion Column
The Wedding Planner
Rick Hopper
Right up until this year I was convinced that an automobile was the worst financial investment that one could make. Heck, as soon as you drive it out of the lot, a new car depreciates at least 10 percent.
However, when compared to an average wedding, buying a car almost makes as much sense as a 401 K.
Both of my stepdaughters took that long walk up the aisle this year. I figure each step they took cost their mom and I about one thousand dollars. Now that I am the proud owner of 120 chair covers and 200 little bottles filled with soapy water for blowing bubbles, we have had to make a few small cuts in our family budget.
Normally, when little boys get the mandatory facts-of-life lecture, father uses myriad gruesome diseases to discourage their sons from frivolous sexual escapades.
I think it would have far greater impact to explain to them that on the off chance that someone lays an egg, and it turns out to be a girl, that in about 25 years they can plan on pursuing a life of financial ruin.
When my wife initially dumped the joyous news of the impending marriage of both of my daughters, I felt a small tear come to my eye. Then after a brief (two-second) quiet assessment of this impending event, my tears dried up and suddenly I felt as if I had been involuntarily hurled into an infinitely deep pool of quicksand.
I hurriedly started packing items of “worth” into a couple of cedar chests I picked up at Goodwill. Dowry! Yes that’s the proper way to handle these things. Due to the fact that the betrothals were six months away, I decided to pack the frozen fish and tater tots a day or two before the actual event.
I quickly wrote two checks for $100 apiece and put them in the cedar chests along with some $5 Starbucks gift certificates. Everybody likes Starbucks.
My innocent, albeit infinite, stupidity prevented me from embracing the fact that I had just performed the equivalent of using duct tape to prevent the adverse effects of nuclear fallout.
The beginning of my descent into the depressing reality of financial devastation took place when my wife happily informed me that she had "just saved us both a lot of money." I am not certain to this day how spending money is even remotely connected to saving money.
My wife’s statement about “saving money” was in reference to a large, foofy, polyester gown that dragged on the floor and was obviously too long for my daughter. The price for this mis-sized Cinderella get up was a whopping $900.
The truly gut-wrenching tragedy of this horrific financial blow was the fact that she was going to wear it ONCE. Hell, I’ve taken tools back to Sears that were five years old and got my money back. And I used them many times before they prematurely malfunctioned. Why in the world could we not return this dress?
I later learned that the proper procedure is to wear the dress once, then pack it away forever. Yup, you heard me right. Forever.
I still don’t understand why the bride’s parents have to pay for the wedding.
I think at the outside there should be some sort of agreement that if the marriage (God forbid) fails, that the groom’s parents should have to refund to the bride’s parents any and all costs associated with the failed attempt at matrimonial bliss. That includes post wedding therapy for both parents of the bride.
I didn’t even get any wedding cake. My daughter’s father-in-law spent most of his time skipping from table to table, asking everyone if they were enjoying their meal. What does he care? I paid for the stupid salmon and steak! I don’t own a gun. That is the only reason I am not penning this out from behind bars.
And what’s this deal of slipping the minister a couple hundred bucks? They’re the ones who are always saying that money is the root of all evil. If anyone should get money it should be me. Maybe then I could buy my very own cake.
Sorry, I don’t mean to trouble you with all my little problems. Maybe I’ll go crack open one of those little bottles of “bubble blowing” water. Wonder if two of ’em would be enough to shower with? Too bad we can’t afford hot water. You know, it just ain’t right.
Rick Hopper is an author and columnist living in Gresham. His new children’s book, Breathe a Great Fire (Ex Libris Publishing), will hit store shelves in late September.