There will be constant Air Force jet flyovers with colored smoke, because those are awesome. Nobody will be able to hear anything but they will be too thrilled to care.I will be preceded by marching band with a thousand male baton twirlers, because that would be interesting and unexpected.
I will ride up in a magnificent carriage pulled by twelve gorgeous horses, because why don’t we do things with horses anymore in America? Why do only British weddings get this?
I will request that my friend Abraham Levitan make up a humorous, inspiring song about me and my special day and that everyone in attendance memorize the lyrics and sing along.
I will be wearing a gigantic hat as will everyone else in attendance since they will be mandatory. Hats will be provided if audience members don’t bring their own.
Hugh Jackman, Joel McHale and Conan O’Brien will all simultaneously hold the Bible I swear in on.
Paul McCartney will then sing “Hey Jude” but change the lyrics to “Hey Claire.”
This weekend I had lunch with a friend of mine who lamented a strange social phenomenon she fell victim to earlier this month. She was hosting a dinner party, and one guest, instead of merely attending or canceling, began texting her in the morning to warn her that she might not be able to attend, due to a sick child. “I’ll let you know what happens,” the guest promised the hostess, and then, on about an hourly basis, provided updates, informing her that things weren’t looking so good due to Junior and his cold. Eventually, exactly at dinnertime, the guest sent a text saying “Looks like I can’t make it after all. Have fun though!!”*
