Signals - Get me to the church on time
When you read this the probability is that I will be at the wedding. My part is secondary? No. A cameo role? Not even. Then what? A walk-on? A stand in? An extra? Okay relax, I actually do very little... No, not even like Alfred Doolittle; he was the...
When you read this the probability is that I will be at the wedding. My part is secondary? No. A cameo role? Not even. Then what? A walk-on? A stand in? An extra? Okay relax, I actually do very little... No, not even like Alfred Doolittle; he was the father of the bride in Pygmalion, better known as My Fair Lady.
I was present at some of the meetings, including the one where we had to Meet the Fokkers. I escorted the mother of the groom to view all of the 27 Dresses. And I attended the men only dress rehearsal, where each of the men was duly, and astutely, measured. This was done so that today we would emerge in Dressed to Kill fashion. Most of last week I was detailed to wait on those guests who chose to deliver their gifts. There was never any chance of staying Home Alone. Actually there was a wedding list; no, not Schindler's List, it was called something else. Anyway, part of the wedding list deal includes the collective delivery of the gifts, to any address, even if need be to go Up at the Villa. However, some guests fearing the worst, like for example, the accidental breakage of an object d'art muttered: Deliver Us from Evil and personally delivered the presents themselves, as if it was The Ultimate Gift.
I do not get to make a speech. They might be thinking that I would go to extremes. Indulge in melodrama or turn the occasion into comedy. Ħu l-fama u mur orqod. (Once you get a reputation you might as well go to sleep). It is actually very different from all that.
It is obvious that the current perception of marriage is not what it was when I took the vows. As with most things life was simpler then. Young people today feel patronised, even over protected. Certainly life is comfier than what we experienced. The young ones eat well too; what with fibre and vitamins and the brown stuff. Not any tastier but safer (or so they have led us to believe). In my time we had inkpots and pens and our dreams were painted by James, Conrad and Joyce. Today of course, it's all pc, DVDs and virtual reality. While my generation was fascinated by the likes of Anna Karenina, who suffered so much for her passion, sexual dreams are presently fashioned by Britney Spears (with or without hair but including all the tattoos).
When it comes to entertainment, it's quite impossible not to smile. We had the radio serials by Fr Harry Born: Sabato Sera, il Musichiere, Carosello, and Victor Aquilina's Popping the Pops on black and white TV, and the Sunday passiġġata ma' tal-Mużew. Clothing was a joke.
Suffice it to say I lived with two pairs of trousers; the Monday to Friday, which was riddled with patches (amazingly, that's the way it's fashionable to wear jeans today) and the Sunday cum festas, which had starched pleats. We played football in the streets and when the traffic occasionally dared disturb our partita it was frowned upon.
Now why have I digressed from the wedding speech that will never be? The signal I get is that I am scared of boring this mainly young generation.
I do realise young people's views on the subject of marriage, which has undoubtedly been debated, honed and refined via the internet.
As with most things today, their argument is most definitely backed by all the philosophical, logistical, psychological and probably some other half a dozen disciplines all ending in -cal. (In our time the Saturday visit to the confessional did the trick.)
Personally I think that marriage is a worthwhile pursuit. I believe that it expresses a commitment as to the level of intimacy you'd want to share with your partner.
Anyway when we parents were first informed of today's do, there was a kind of indescribable joy. As phones buzzed and e-mails were forwarded, beaming faces all around expressed this feeling of joie de vivre.
Unlike what happened in the mediaeval ages, today's young people opt for a church wedding because they want to. And as the father of the groom I am only required to get there on time.
I was present at some of the meetings, including the one where we had to Meet the Fokkers. I escorted the mother of the groom to view all of the 27 Dresses. And I attended the men only dress rehearsal, where each of the men was duly, and astutely, measured. This was done so that today we would emerge in Dressed to Kill fashion. Most of last week I was detailed to wait on those guests who chose to deliver their gifts. There was never any chance of staying Home Alone. Actually there was a wedding list; no, not Schindler's List, it was called something else. Anyway, part of the wedding list deal includes the collective delivery of the gifts, to any address, even if need be to go Up at the Villa. However, some guests fearing the worst, like for example, the accidental breakage of an object d'art muttered: Deliver Us from Evil and personally delivered the presents themselves, as if it was The Ultimate Gift.
I do not get to make a speech. They might be thinking that I would go to extremes. Indulge in melodrama or turn the occasion into comedy. Ħu l-fama u mur orqod. (Once you get a reputation you might as well go to sleep). It is actually very different from all that.
It is obvious that the current perception of marriage is not what it was when I took the vows. As with most things life was simpler then. Young people today feel patronised, even over protected. Certainly life is comfier than what we experienced. The young ones eat well too; what with fibre and vitamins and the brown stuff. Not any tastier but safer (or so they have led us to believe). In my time we had inkpots and pens and our dreams were painted by James, Conrad and Joyce. Today of course, it's all pc, DVDs and virtual reality. While my generation was fascinated by the likes of Anna Karenina, who suffered so much for her passion, sexual dreams are presently fashioned by Britney Spears (with or without hair but including all the tattoos).
When it comes to entertainment, it's quite impossible not to smile. We had the radio serials by Fr Harry Born: Sabato Sera, il Musichiere, Carosello, and Victor Aquilina's Popping the Pops on black and white TV, and the Sunday passiġġata ma' tal-Mużew. Clothing was a joke.
Suffice it to say I lived with two pairs of trousers; the Monday to Friday, which was riddled with patches (amazingly, that's the way it's fashionable to wear jeans today) and the Sunday cum festas, which had starched pleats. We played football in the streets and when the traffic occasionally dared disturb our partita it was frowned upon.
Now why have I digressed from the wedding speech that will never be? The signal I get is that I am scared of boring this mainly young generation.
I do realise young people's views on the subject of marriage, which has undoubtedly been debated, honed and refined via the internet.
As with most things today, their argument is most definitely backed by all the philosophical, logistical, psychological and probably some other half a dozen disciplines all ending in -cal. (In our time the Saturday visit to the confessional did the trick.)
Personally I think that marriage is a worthwhile pursuit. I believe that it expresses a commitment as to the level of intimacy you'd want to share with your partner.
Anyway when we parents were first informed of today's do, there was a kind of indescribable joy. As phones buzzed and e-mails were forwarded, beaming faces all around expressed this feeling of joie de vivre.
Unlike what happened in the mediaeval ages, today's young people opt for a church wedding because they want to. And as the father of the groom I am only required to get there on time.