There is much about the upcoming wedding where I don’t have strong feelings. Stephanie mentioned to me the other day, almost perplexed, that I hadn’t said anything much about what I would want to wear. I think that all I have ruled out is the possibility of getting married in a Hawaiian shirt (which implicitly also means I won’t be wearing my polyester shirt with flames on it):
I have no real affinity or aversion to either getting married in a tuxedo or in a guayabera and boat shoes. I might go for the kilt and Scottish jacket, or just a reasonable dark suit. I don’t know.
In other areas, I am sure that I don’t want a groom’s cake (I’m vaguely offended by the idea), I want the reception to be somewhere everyone can have a good time, and I want the service to reflect our belief in a wedding as a sacrament and a covenant in the presence of the community. I want it all to be good and happy, but I want to acknowledge that the day is most important for pointing back to the past that created both of us and for pointing forward to the life we will live together in faith and in our community of friends and family.
But none of that is really the point of this post. I have been thinking about music. I have a pet idea that I have been nurturing: I don’t really want to pay for a DJ. I don’t want a smarmy guy with laminated sheets of generic party music. I feel like we could assemble all the music we would want or need from iTunes, have volunteers staff the playlist in shifts, and spend the evening enjoying music that we like. What if we asked all of the married people coming to the wedding what music they remember liking from their wedding? (What were their spotlight dance songs? What made them smile when they were newly married?) What if we asked all the unmarried people what music they would like to hear at a celebration? We could assemble all of that, and sequence it a bit, and have something that I think would be special.