by Phyllis Irene Radford
In my family I’m the weird one. If there is a bassackwards way of doing something, I’ll find it, make it work when everyone says I can’t, and forget how I did it. So when it came time to get married, everyone expected me to pull off something different. How different they had no idea.
A little background. I met my husband Tim during a community theater production of “Brigadoon.” That Scottish musical. At the time he was the only adult male in town who could do the Sword Dance, so he was tapped to play Harry Beaton before auditions even started. I knew the director from a college production the previous semester, so I wiggled my way into the role of Bonnie Jeannie. For five performances and who knows how many rehearsal Harry broke up the wedding of Jeannie and Charlie with the challenge of the Sword Dance.
More on that later.
At the wedding, one of Tim’s best friends led me down the aisle playing the bagpipes. My maid of honor wore a tartan skirt—it was blue, I don’t remember the clan. The best man wore his clan kilt, McKenzie. And Tim wore his band kilt (not owning one of his own at the time) in Royal Stewart. I wore white, having made both my gown and veil, and carried a bouquet of white heather and holly.
Okay, the family sort of sat up and took notice at that.
At the reception, some of the Highland dancers dragged Tim onto the dance floor and they all did a Highland Fling. That really shook up my family, while his just sort of nodded and accepted it.
Then—remember that Brigadoon thing? The fellow who had played Charlie marched onto the floor with crossed swords overhead and… and preformed the Sword Dance. Of course half the guests had been associated with the play, either as actors, dancers, pipers, costumers, or just the audience and knew the story. We all had a good laugh and fortunately I didn’t have to dance in high heels wearing a silk gown. And that disappointed my family because I’d grown up in a ballet studio and always hogged the best roles, upstaging everyone in theater and dance.
Maybe I did that with the entire wedding since no one else in the family has quite equaled it for… flair.
Phyllis Irene Radford is a founding member of the Book View Café. Though raised in the seaports of America she was born in Portland, Oregon and has lived in and around the city since her junior year in high school. She thrives in the damp and loves the tall trees.
For more about her and her fiction please visit her bookshelf here on BVC http://www.bookviewcafe.com/index.php/Phyllis-Irene-Radford/
Or her personal web page ireneradford.com