Matchmaking and global warming
The Greenhouse effect. Global warming. Melting ice caps. Fossil fuels. The generation that is destroying the environment. Honestly and apologetically, I don’t understand any of it. I have not done any research on it, and, well, again apologetically, I don’t get it.
What I do get is that Memorial Day weekend used to be the kick-off to summer festivities. Lounging by someone else’s pool, mooching off someone else’s barbecue…apparently, it might not exactly have been the case this past weekend. I thought global warming was literal, but if it is colder when it is supposed to be warmer, what does that mean? Is that a result of me not having recycled all of my cans of Tab?
If anyone can help me out with that, please feel free to reach out.
There were some years when Memorial Day weekend meant that I would go with one of my friends to her parents’ apartment down by the shore. And then there was in the infamous Memorial Day weekend when three of my friends got married.
And, for the record, 31 years later, all three couples are still married. And, in true form to who I am, I only am close with one of those couples. Which might be more miraculous than them all still being married, but I digress.
At these weddings, I was still single, bordering on spinster. Someone had told me that if I didn’t talk during three chuppahs (which is the marriage ceremony, when most people usually talk, unfortunately. What they talk about is probably more unfortunate because it usually involves a critique of the “fashion” or guests) I would get married. Three chuppahs, not a word. The challenge was accepted, and the opportunity was right in front of me.
And this is when I began sitting in my favorite seat at a wedding. Last row, aisle seat next to the actual aisle. Most people like skipping up to the front, but not me. In the back, no one talks to you because they are wondering what is wrong with you that you are sitting by yourself all the way in the back.
I have learned that, indeed, this is the best seat. I was able to not talk for three chuppahs AND I realized that is it the best view of what is going on. You get to see everyone come out to walk down, and sometimes, if you are really lucky, you get a hint of any drama that might have gone on before they all walked down that aisle. I am all about the drama, after all. And, the most recent trend, is when the parents come out to watch their children walk down.
It is always a treat coming face to face with the back of your friend and trying to tickle her during such an emotional time. OK, I have never done that, but I have made some comments. And one friend had gotten her foot wrapped in the organza from the flowers and I helped untangle her. Wow, I am such a good person.
So back to that fateful Memorial Day weekend. Three weddings, two of them at Marina Del Ray, which was the place to get married in the 90s because it was beautiful, economical, and had the best shmorg. Fast forward to now and it is still beautiful, the shmorg is still amazing, but it is no longer economical. Does that have to do with global warming as well?
In any event, I have to say that Husband #1 and I started dating right after those weddings. Was it because I didn’t utter a word during those chuppahs? Was it because Husband #1 and I were the only single people in our friend group and our fate was sealed? We will never know, but, thank God, I am very grateful.
Dating has always been a very challenging sport, and it seems that it has only gotten worse. Resumes and shadchans…it is not easy. If you can, try to make it easier for the singles. Think of people you know and make some matches. That, too, is frustrating because guys are, well, guys, but all you can do is try.
This column took an interesting turn, no? May all of your tefillot be answered.
Banji Ganchrow of Teaneck learned that the secret to getting to the Island of Long quickly is leaving at 6 am. You are welcome.
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