Please Drink Modestly…Use a cozy

Kim and I had a wonderful weekend.  We picked up our friend Brandon who flew into SLC on Friday night to attend a friend’s wedding on Saturday.  Brandon used to work with the groom.  I used to work with the bride.  We got overnight sitters for the boys (big thanks by the way!) We were sort of guests of honor since we set them up originally.  It’s also kind of funny that the last time Brandon came to town the groom and bride weren’t even talking to each other.  But that might have had a little something to do with the fact that I told a big secret.  Not that it was THAT big of a secret.  It was just something that wasn’t mine to tell.  It didn’t help that I wrote about it either.  I guess I’m lucky I got invited to the wedding at all.  I just wanted to make sure their relationship was good and tested before they took the plunge.


This wedding was unique.  Being from Roosevelt, I have been to quite a few rural shindigs.  In fact, I had a cousin get married barefoot in a meadow and the directions on the invite included text similar to this:  “Go up Elk Horn Loop until the pavement ends.  Drive to the meadow.  Park and walk to the second hidden meadow.  If you don’t find us, you’re at the wrong meadow.”  I went to another wedding where the bride sported a cowgirl hat veil


(about like this) 

and the Maid of Honor/ Brides Maid wore modest ankle length dresses (think FLDS style without the polygamy) and the Best Man wore a western-cut shirt with matching dangling fringe. I was ready for rural.  I wasn’t ready for the drive to rural.   


We intended to leave for Koosharem at noon but our babysitters were over a half hour late.  I hate to complain too much since they spent the next 24 hours with my children, but it set us back.  Then we had to pick up another friend who was carpooling with us.  Add in the extenuating circumstance of Brandon wanting to buy a new tie and us getting hungry plus I’d admit it, our friend Erika needs to pee more than the average individual.   Because we were running out of time and our cabin was still several miles further, we ended up having to get ready in a rest stop without our curling and straightening irons or even a mirror for that matter. 


But we made it to the wedding on time.


Erika looked particularly nice in her spaghetti straps, slim dress, and high heeled shoes.  It was immediately apparent that the heels were a ranch faux pas. The ceremony wasn’t at the ranch house where the reception was.  It was in the middle of the cow pasture.  These cows were well-fed.  Particularly healthy.  Not a constipated cow among them. 


As Erika hobbled along the two men behind us got incredible joy at her expense.  First they started with, “You from the city, girl?” 


Uh, “duh.”


“Those high heels you’re wearing are walking thru cowshit.”

Again, “duh.”


Erika responded that she wasn’t exactly sure what they wanted her to do about it at this point.  Sort of a, yes I’m wearing high heeled shoes.  Yes there’s potholes and cow shit.  Perhaps my world travel to Africa, Europe and my extended trips to Germany didn’t prepare me for Koosharem. What exactly do you propose I do now?


They replied, “Keep walking Honey.  Just keep walking.  We’ll be right behind you to pull you out of anything you can’t get out of.”


I’m sure she felt better just knowing that.


The wedding goers sat on bales of hay.  The wedding Hoopa consisted of a newly built threshold to their soon to be built cabin.  A backhoe overlooked the ceremony as if it were simply decorative.  A hawk/eagle/bird circled overhead.  Family members affirmed their support.  Then all wedding goers affirmed our support.  Special friends and family members offered words of advice.  Our asses fell asleep and were poked awake by the strands of straw.  Grandma spoke and most the crowd started to cry.  Hayfever we called it.  Must be allergic. Then they were pronounced married and gave a little peck on the lips.  Some rowdy guest remarked “I kiss my mother like that.”  But the respectable couple offered nothing more.  Then the backhoe fired up and growled its way over for the photographer to catch a group pic.     


The walk back to the ranch house was spent with me and my crowd of friends wondering whether there would be alcohol or not.  The groom’s family is avowed Mormon.  The bride’s friends are avid lushes. I’m not certain about the bride’s family because they all dressed their bottles in a cozy, but I’m thinking they might have been drinking.  Yes.  I said cozy.


A pickup truck with a bucket big enough to be a trough (actually it might have been a trough) was filled with ice and drinks of all varieties and the wedding-goers Mormon and non dressed up their drinks so nobody knew.  The cozies themselves sported the bride and grooms names and the date – just like any old party favor.  (Can I just say Brilliant.  Simply Brilliant.)  Other party favors included local honey and homemade jams. 


The reception was made up of a fabulous dinner (it was probably one of the cows from the pasture), amazing music in the form of a live Bluegrass band, and lots of dancing on the wooden floor (which would also soon be the kitchen floor of the cabin they are building.)  Hell, any more wedding planning and their cabin would be built. 


The beverage in the cozy loosened me up a little and my girl and I started dancing.  I also met the bride’s uncle and found him to be a charming paramedic at least 4 inches shorter than myself.  But when we danced a waltz, I let him lead.  At the end of the night he remarked to me, “Why are all the good ones always gay?”  Ahhh. Adorable.  If I were straight, I’d go right for the older, shorter, uncle-type.  Definitely. 


Disclaimer: *I’m using pics without permission so if anybody out there doesn’t want their pic used, just let me know and I’ll take it down right away*



3 Responses to “Please Drink Modestly…Use a cozy”

  1. Kelly B Says:

    i love a good wedding..

    i also love that you talk about cow ####…


    miss you, glad you had a good time!

  2. Chicory Says:

    now THAT’s a wedding!

  3. Carrie Says:

    I know you said they were taking pictures but the guys in the backhoe look like they are rapping. Now that would have been a perfect addition to the wedding!

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