The Magicalist Place on Earth

Let me say upfront, there is no way and place where 5 gazillion people gather in one limited space that can be considered “magical”.  Last night as I walked to the buses with all 5 gazillion, was my worst nightmare. That being said, Walt Disney World has  become a remarkable kind of vacation for people from all over the world.

The decision makers in the company, realizing how their customer base has changed, transitioned to policies that made good business sense. Without Walt, who was homophobic and I think a little bit of a racist, Disney World has opened it’s arms to people who are different colors, sizes, ethnicities  Gay, Lesbian,  and whatever I forgot.  We are at Disney World for a most joyous occasion. Our friends, Tevy and Scott, wonderful young men are getting married.  They couldn’t officially get married in Florida, because they are not allowed, (what a sadness), but they took their vows at the Wedding Plaza, and celebrated them in the park.  Cinderella transportation included.  The grooms looked gorgeous.

It is a month of weddings for us.  Last week we went to a family wedding in Miami. The bride and groom looked gorgeous, (yes they all did). The ceremony was outdoors on a balmy Florida evening, and then the party began.  We all danced and danced and danced -- the younger people danced til dawn. We didn’t dance til the sun came up, but we held our own. The sun was coming up somewhere, probably Ankara or Ibiza, but dance we did.

The new trend in weddings, which is to do whatever the happy couple want to do, is most refreshing.  I remember at my first wedding, which was incredibly stressful, we did whatever our parents wanted us to do -- making it their wedding not ours.  For example,  an orthodox Rabbi conducted the service. It was a service not a ceremony, that went on and on  and on. At one point,  the Rabbi was saying some blessing, holding a glass of red wine  and he was not paying attention.  It was aimed directly at my dress.  As he spoke the wine came closer and closer. Every time it came closer my mother pulled me back, until finally, by the end of the service, I was at least three big steps away from the groom.  The guest list was constructed by the parents. And the food -- well as my friend Mark said, “I think this was the roast beef I left from the wedding last week.” 

The wedding was not without it’s memorable moments.  My cousin, in whose car all my luggage for the honeymoon resided, got a little tipsy. He fell in the pool, lost the keys, and they had to break into the trunk. Then my uncle, at whose apartment we were staying in Miami, decided that we would have more fun if he went on the honeymoon with us.... and he was right. 

Anyway, I got over it and married the right person on the second try.  That wedding deserves it’s own blob.

Next week we are driving to Maryland for another wedding and we are sure it will be grand.  A few days ago I was trying to explain how I felt about all this and I decided I can only be described as this:  Mother Slut has become a Wedding Slut. I always wanted to be a slut and, at least this way, I can be one happily every after.  It’s Magical.  We’re just sayin’…Iris