Bad Wedding Story

Charlie Sherrill and I are performing a wedding ceremony together at a farm in the country.

Charlie is an extremely talented saxophone player and entertainer who blows magic. He's a soft soul, incredibly charismatic and generates love even in the seediest of bars ... or churches.

Dressed cool and beach like, he wears purple floral shirt, white cargo shorts and sandals.

I wear the black minister's robe I bought for $10 from a Preacher going out of business.

We're conducting a service together at a farm off a dirt road in Bulloch County, Georgia ... far from the beach both of us call home.

It's also our first "Butterfly" service.

The assembly has been given small boxes, each containing a yellow Butterfly which is to be released when I pronounce them husband and wife.

Do you know that Butterflies don't like to be confined to boxes?

Charlie and I didn't.

Neither do the gathering of family and friends.

When Charlie softly blows his sax ... we can't hear a damn thing for the sound of a hundred Butterflies wildly ramming themselves against the tiny cardboard boxes.

He plays louder which seem to infuriate the already pissed off Butterflies so they try harder to escape drowning him out.

With his sweet countenance, Charlie looks at me and shrugs his shoulders.

I scream wedding vows to the top of my lungs.

"WHAT?" the Bride asks.

I scream louder.

Charlie shrugs his shoulders sympathetically and pretends to clean his Sax.

I scream louder and the couple say they "do".

Holding my hands up, I yell with everything in me "I NOW PRONOUNCE YOU HUSBAND AND WIFE!"

Over a hundred people cheer ... open up the little white containers ... and over a hundred Butterflies drop dead on the ground.

There's dead silence.

Two yellow Butterflies survive the horrific ordeal, floating together to get the Hell away from the wedding as quickly as possible.

Everyone looks at me to bring an end to the service.

I look at Charlie ... who shrugs his shoulders.

"You may kiss your Bride," I say ... not knowing what else to say.

Dead yellow Butterflies are everywhere as he kisses her.

Charlie sweetly blows his Sax as I rip off the robe and rush to my car.

He looks at me as he plays with eyes asking ... "Where the Hell are you going?"

I shrug my shoulders, get behind the wheel and leave a cloud of dust on that country dirt road.

A few days later Charlie and I are in Doc's Bar where he's the main draw and we burst out laughing when we see each other.

"Think they're gonna make it," I ask?

Charlie shrugs his shoulders and I laugh.

Grabbing me, he says, "Those poor Butterflies."

"Damn poor couple," I say as we hug.

Welcome to love

Having donned the black robe, the tarnished man at least gives an initial appearance of holiness. He stands waiting as they approach one by one. Upon reaching him, half take their places on his right and half on his left. He watches each of them, locking eyes and witnessing their smiles. He glimpses faces in the audience though remains focused on the procession.

Finally, he sees her, standing there more beautiful than she's ever been though she was already beautiful. She walks slowly, purposely, full of joy. The ocean breeze blows wisps of her blond hair, the setting sun radiates her face and a choir of seagulls sing praise.

She is standing before him now but her eyes are on the man standing to his left. Their eyes are locked as they share a smile, before holding hands, making vows and giving themselves completely away. Then they turn and stare at him in anticipation.

The ones on the right and the ones on the left turn and face him too, also waiting.

People sitting or standing around the semi-circle cock their heads or crane their necks also setting their eyes on him, straining to hear as the ocean breeze blows, waves roll onto the shore and seagulls sing.

It is the most pregnant of moments and it hangs there.

What can he possibly have to say?

He's not the most creditable person on the earth when it comes to marriage. Everyone witnessed his own heart shatter into millions of pieces and slowly put together again by the few who loved him anyway. They watched him reluctantly pull himself up and stand on wobbly knees. Surprise hit them when he began to dance and it quickly turned to shock when he himself stood where the couple are standing now.

Say what you will, he still believes in love.

He steals a glance at his wife sitting in audience reaffirming their own vows and sharing their own smile in the pregnant moment.

Then he clears his throat and gets down to business.

Looking at his little girl holding the hands of the man she loves, he says to the fishes in the ocean, the people on the beach, the seagulls in the sky, the audience sitting or standing, the wedding party and to God himself ...

"Dear friends, welcome to love."