WEDDING VOWELS a SORTIE into matrimony

I have to preface these wedding stories by telling the
reader that when we decided to be married we bought an
old 1920’s Craftsman Bungalow in the Montrose District
of Houston right across the street from the Houston
Art League. If you are not a Houstonian you should
probably be aware that the Montrose area is home to a
lot of artists, free thinkers, old hippies with money,
and alternative lifestyles - as in Gay couples. Many
of our neighbors were gay and most were artists of one
form or another. You see a lot of Rainbow flags and
so forth if you are walking the streets of Montrose.
We have the best restaurants, clubs, and nicest yards
in Houston. The Montrose area is well known and loved
by all Houstonians and has some of the priciest real
estate in the city but also some of the strangest
people. The Montrose Arts Festival now called Bayou
City Arts Festival is given every Spring to let the
alternative lifestyles out of their winter closets.
All in all it is a strange place with an interesting
humming community that is out of the ordinary.

When we decided to get married we got all the
arrangements made but we had problems finding an
officiant to do the ceremony because ministers and justices of the peace are gooked up years ahead for wedding and funerals in Houst, well maybe not for funerals but you get the idea. Finally, I thought about
our neighbor, King, down the street, who was a lay
minister for a big Baptist church in Houston but whose
main living was made by selling luxury used cars from
a lot that faced Montrose Street which was next door
to our house. We often saw King as he passed the house
to meet clients who were interested in the cars he
kept parked on the lot next to our home. We had spoken
to him often and he had come up on the porch with us
several times to visit. I was sure he knew our names
as we had introduced ourselves.

He was off in Africa on a mission when I called his
home so I just left him the following message, “ Hello
King, this is Ann your neighbor down the street.
Michel and I are going to get married on August the
7th and we are looking for someone to perform the
ceremony for us. We are having some difficulty
finding a person who will officiate so I thought maybe
you would do the service and if you cannot do it, then
perhaps you can suggest someone who will do the
service for us”.

A few days later when I got no reply I called back on
King’s cell phone and got him on the line. I could
tell he was reticent to speak to me and he sounded
strangely uncomfortable almost irritable. I explained once more that Michel and I
were to be married and we were looking for a minister
to do the ceremony.

He choked, coughed and got almost apoplectic, then he started
hollering into the phone that he did not do those
types of things and he was not that way and how could
we dare to ask him such a thing. He further said he
did not perform marriage ceremonies for “our kind” and
he would not dare to refer us to any good Christian
minister he knew, of any Justice of the Peace for that matter. He said he knew there was all sorts
of “weirdness” in our neighborhood but he wanted to
assure me he was not “that way”. He told me he would
prefer if I did not call him back ever again. I said,
“well, I am very sorry, I had no intention of
upsetting you and hope you will continue to stop by
the house and talk to us when you are walking to the
cars”. He then hung up on me... but I suppose the little brain cells in King's mind went to work trying to jar his memory when he heard me say, "stop by...walking to the cars...".

Shortly after this conversation I was going out the
front door when I spied King walking to meet a car
customer. He was chipper said “hi” and acted just
fine like nothing had happened. Somewhat sheepishly,
I said Hi, and then I said I am sorry I did not mean
to offend you. He stopped dead still looked nonplussed
and said, “how do you think you offended me?”

“When I called you about the marriage ceremony for
Michel and I,” I said. He was baffled turned all red
stood there thinking and then it dawned on him what he
had done. He said, “what is your future husband’s
name?”. “Michel”, I said.

He started laughing and began to apologize as he
explained he thought we were a Lesbian couple who was
trying to get an officially sanctioned wedding through
the church. He said, "these people will try anything to get married in a church with a real minister of the Gospel"....... It never dawned on me that Ann and Michel
would be a Lesbian couple but I guess it sure sounds
that way so King and I had a good laugh and then he
gave me the name of a minister.(I was thinking - I don't doubt these loving couples want to be married in a church with a real minister; and this is the USA where we are supposed to be free... but that is best left for another time of discussion)..so I said nothing and felt ashamed of my own timidity.





Michel, my intended is French. He was educated in Jesuit schools in France as well. So, my beloved has the in herited Marseiller proclivity for being argumentative coupled with the education of the Jesuit's natural arguement with the universe and just about everyone else on the globe.

If you say, "Oh lovely day today", Michel will say, "No, it is quite nasty and it is night". If you say, "Oh, what a nice steak". Michel will say, "On, non it is cooked too well done like all American meats; it is a cinder and it is not steak". Get the drift? Black is white and white is black and he never agrees with anyone because he was educated to argue with everyone.

My Frenchman is very good with English, often has to tell me how to spell English words, but sometimes he gets a little
screwed up with his pronounciation and the "th" words
are impossible for the French (much as "L" is for Asians).
All French, even the most educated ones say "F" instead
of "th". Sometimes I just make him stop and slowly
concentrate on spitting out
the "th" but usually it's "first" for "thirst" and
"firty" for "thirty"……….. I don't have to tell you
what
he does to the word "Thrifty".

Which reminds me of a funny story . when we were
getting married we hired this lovely very ancient retired
Episcopal Reverend to do the ceremony. I thought I
could get him to shorten all the vows stuff and just
say "do you take you for so forth and so on" but he would not
budge on the ceremony and insisted on the overlong age
old Anglican wedlock verbage. He did sedn me a copy of the vows and told me to read
over the
words with Michel so we knew what he was going to
say.......In my mist of marital blizt; I DID NOT DO THIS....because I thought I
was too busy - BIG MISTAKE which made for marital
hilarity at the wedding.

So, we had luckily decided just to have the ceremony in the loft overlooking a wonderful French restaurant called Baroque, with
only
with Michel's Brother, Mother (who had flown in for
marriage and to visit) and Sean with his former girl
firend and my friend L.E who was my bride's maid. All
the other people were coming about an hour later to
the restaurant for the cake, champagne and party foods.

Well, the minister drones on with the ceremony almost putting us to sleep, but when
we get to the part where the minister says, "and
thereto I plight thee my troth".....well oh my Lord!;I
looked at Michel and Michel was getting all red in the face,
started to choke and said, "excuse me?" because he
was thinking "trough" (as in long wooden pig eatery) and he was
sure the old minister
was calling me a pig. Anyway about the time "troth"
was said and Michel turned red because he knew when he
said it, how the word would come out; I suddenly knew
what he
was thinking and I start laughing. Laughter, alas, is contagious
and everyone else starts to titter as well, even though
they have no idea
what is funny. Suddenly I get the feeling Michel is going to ruin our wedding ceremony by arguing with the minister about the word "troth" and how it should not be in the vows........So under my breath I say "just say the
words I'll explain later". So Michel give me the
sideways Gallic Eagle Eye of scrutiny, decides to
play along and says "and thereto
thee I plight thee my TROF" Welllll I cannot contain
myself any more and I burst into
extreme giggles because I knew what was M's confusion
with the F versus TH but also his reservation about
calling his new wife a pig who needed a
trough.....coupled with the fact he wanted to argue about the word trough versus troth in the first place.....enough said....so you get it. The poor
minister was completely confused at the jocularity of
the situation and afterward we could not really
explain it to him…so we paid him thanked him heartily and sent him on his way......Anyway it
makes for a great wedding story and we certainly
started out with a sense of humor which has carried us even unto this day.