Attended a few weeks back the wedding of a good friend, Hatchett, with Dan Mike, who is an excellent and extremely fun dude. Hatchett of course is a nickname, one of my most successful nicknaming attempts ever, as parents of our high school friends still call her Hatchett after 15 years. This was spawned by, bleeeech, R.L. Stine’s Fear Street juvenile novel series back in the early 90’s which Hatchett had introduced to me. In Fear Street every chapter is composed of 4 pages, with each one ending in a cliff hanger like someone getting whacked on the head with an axe or something. One of the stories was about Catherine Hatchett, some witch girl being haunted during those witch hunt eras, who had the special ability to turn into a small white rat. To kill her opponents she would jump into their trachea and stay there till they die.
Hatchett’s wedding was highly enjoyable, and I should come out and say it out loud right now anyway that I abhor weddings, that I usually just pretend to be excited for the newlyweds when in real life I’m imagining a wind-up toy monkey banging cymbals even as I was consuming the reception’s bland waldorf. The weddings which I would have genuinely enjoyed are the ones I’ve actually missed, like the wedding of Mrs. Therese which I’ve thought, back then, would have no fathomable reason for me to miss. Abe Navarro and Len-Len’s wedding was extremely fun as well, capped by Len-Len’s birit rendition of a song the title of which escapes me right now. Now Hatchett’s wedding I’ve thoroughly enjoyed, and it was with much elation that I’ve witnessed the event.
The most annoying part of weddings, of course, is the punishment rendered to single people, with all sorts of interesting/embarrassing twists being thought of for the bouquet/garter thing. This is probably one of the reasons why I think Hatchett’s wedding is one of the best ever. One by one us unmarried males were called by name. I decided not to stand up and continued slobbering over my lechon. No one called my attention and the garter thing went on without me. I didn’t even have to pretend that I would have to go to the bathroom. Nobody cared. Best wedding of the year.
the title, wil, was \”all i ask of you\” from the musical phantom of the opera.
Aha, naunahan ako ni Smoketh.. All I Ask of You nga.. Hindi ka nakatakas nung wedding namin, I'm sorry. With all your credentials on the screen for all the world to see. I'm sure all the single females in the room and the mothers as well (with you being a doctor , and therefore, a big catch) wanted you for a son-in-law..;)) Willy, since Salinger expired, could you just make your own Glass Family version and put it in this blog?????