It's her special day." I know, I know. I've heard it before. This past weekend I attended a wedding in Texas and was reacquainted with the brute fact that the entire process revolves around the whims of the bride. The groom is just supposed to stand around smiling and nodding n setting the tone for the marriage (insert rim shot here).
Nothing will ever level the scales on wedding weekend. Despite the undeniable truth that the man is joining a union in which his ? let's say? natural urges will be suppressed, the woman is enchanted with a princess complex that allows her alone to be the center of attention.
At the wedding reception this weekend I noticed a routinely overlooked detail that perfectly illustrates this power struggle. On a small table, pressed in a dark corner of the dance hall, was a lonely chocolate cake. The groom's cake. Does this lead us to believe that the giant mass of glistening white frosting, commonly called the wedding cake, is actually the bride's cake? A rose by any other name ?
So here's what I want.
When I get married I want the most grossly awesome groom's cake that money can buy. I want a sugary juggernaut of mountainous proportions so large that Tibetan Buddhists will flock to hang prayer flags from its countless towering tiers.
I want the groom's cake to overshadow the entire event. The guests, when recounting the story of my wedding to their grandchildren decades later, will remember only one thing about the entire weekend n that cake.
During the ceremony the minister will rush us through our vows, pronounce us man and wife, and knock the flower girl to the floor as he rushes through the back door of the church and tears out of the parking lot for the reception hall.
Media will flock and break into regular programming with live footage of the cake shot from helicopters. Guinness bookkeepers will raise their pens and add an entry. I'll be expecting the Vice President, at least.
Wedding guests will gather and gawk at the spectacle. At the press of a button, trap doors will open on all sides of the cake and kittens and puppies will come pouring out into the loving arms of all of our guests. Champagne fountains will sprout hundreds of flutes as monarch butterflies encircle ribbons of the flowing liquid.
When the time comes to finally consume the creation, tiny robotic butlers will appear from behind the cake and carve beautiful fractal patterns into the frosting while serving the guests.
I expect this to cost no less than twice the total amount spent on the rest of the wedding and honeymoon combined. Not too much to ask.
After all, it is our day, isn't it?
Rob Felt is the photographer for the Daily Herald. He can be reached at (770) 957-9161 or via e-mail at email@example.com.