Unplugged & Unmedicated

Ushering In the Love
Written by David M. Muench


It was my first time actively participating in the union of two happy (terrified) people. I'm not talking about the traditional hauling wedding gifts to the designated Gift Mobile, or putting Oreos, toilet paper, shoe polish, and dead animals on the happy couple's car. I'm talking about the esteemed duty of the Usher.

I had only a vague knowledge regarding an usher's charge. Leading guests to the proper bride/groom sections of the pews and forcing them with a half-nelson and a headlock to sign the guest register while attempting to look reposed.

The wedding lady - who much to my dismay looked nothing like J. Lo - drilled me about my regal responsibilities.

"Have the guests sign the guest register and then lead them to their seat."

"Got it."

"Make sure that the family members get the first two pews, then friends fill in the third and so on."

"Okay."

"Wow, how easy is this?" I thought to myself. "Hey, sign that, and follow me." Piece of cake, right?

I failed on my first run, because I was completely unaware that I had to "escort" the female guests with the crook of my arm. I learned that when Miss J. Lo was explaining the responsibilities in detail to the other usher, a kid half my age and twice my height. I don't know why she neglected to fill me in on the whole "crook-of-the-arm" thing. Like it's some kind of dormant, intrinsic element embedded deep into the Male Psyche that awakens when a man hits his thirties. Riiight. Don't get me wrong, I'm a gentlemen, but I don't go grabbing strange women at weddings. They may get the wrong impression.

My second attempt was more successful as I properly "escorted" my brother-in-law's lovely daughter down to her seat. Although I guess you should subtract ten points as I bellowed, "Walk this way!" and proceeded to kick my knees up high as we walked.

If those duties weren't enough, we then had to direct people from the outside who were going into the wrong building. Never mind that it was a cloudy, blustery day with the wind chill dipping into the twenties.

"Yo, Einstein! That's the Reception Hall! Jog your ass over here!" I yelled in my mind to wayward guests as I graciously waved them in.

All-in-all it was a good time. I was finally able to seat myself and enjoy a beautiful wedding. My niece has never looked lovelier, the groom a handsome gentleman and I was quite the Dapper Dan with my black Perry Ellis suit, matching tie and handkerchief. And a good 35 pounds lighter. Nothing says "dapper" than a lot of lost weight.

I have earned my Usher wings now, and I am confident that I will be more than ready for the next big wedding.

God help me if it's mine.