So I crashed my husband's wedding

My mom has been on my ass to write this since March 12, 2009, the day it happened. She actually started on me when I walked through the door.

Where do I begin? EXE? Dirk?

I read about the wedding on Facebook.The day before, I'd uploaded some photos I took when Shovelhead (Sid's band before he joined Sworn Enemy) opened for Bile (the band for whom Bear brilliantly plays keyboard). I tagged the hell out of the photos. One of Bear's friends, Valerie, saw the photos, thanked me for posting them, and added me to her Crackbook F-list.

I read on her page that Bear and his forever lover, David, were getting married the next day.

A few phone calls later, I got Bear on the phone. He was at the airport, getting David, and would call me back.

What to do? I put together an all-black outfit and waited by the phone.

The story goes back many many years (more than I want to say, given that doing so ages me). I was Hittman's groupie. Dirk, the singer, was the object of my desire. A long-haired, redheaded Irishman who looked like Bruce Dickinson but better, who sang like no one's business. YUM.  Hair metal was only one of my favorite genres, so Dirk suggested that I get the EXE album. His best friend (Bear) was in the band and Dirk wanted him to be "a huge star."

I was hoping to meet Bear at the upcoming Alice Cooper concert. Covered in tattoos, back in the day, he really stood out in a crowd. I actually saw him in the huge New Haven Colliseum crowd - but the asshole I was with (Fredd, that was your roommate, Don) got into a fight with One-Eyed Joe, and by the time I'd pulled Don away, Bear was gone.

That's ok, there was always the phone. (and, since this was so long ago, there were accompanying long distance phone bills.)

Bear, heavily tattooed, and about as fucked up as I am, was my guru. This was before the days of BME. (Fine, I'll date myself. We're up to May, 1989.) I even called Bear when i got my first tattoo (Hittman's logo, of course). That was a great night. I went with Steve Nadile. (He pulled down my tube top - remember those? - when I got dizzy, but that was to be expected from Steve.)

There was the night we went for tea and then record shopping in the Village. We split up when we walked into the store, to look for different stuff. I got to the counter first, with my Dio and Culture club 45s, maybe some Queen and Neil Diamond too. The cashier looked at my booty, then looked at Bear, and said, "You must be with him."

So the years have passed. Love of Dirk as a sex object is a thing of history. (We never even kissed. I'm, uh, not his type.) I've gotten fat, gotten thin, gotten fat, gotten thin, gotten somewhere in between. I went from high school dropout to a fairly good senior secretary. I went from overweight-pain to unbelievably healthy to pain-not-related-to-my-fat-ass. I've gone from poverty to mid-upper-middle-class to slave-to-the-System-for-health-insurance. (The fuckers won't cover my pain medication any more. The fucking pharmaceutical company won't work with them. But that's another post for another day.)

Thrash, hardcore, and hair bands still own my heart, but I'll also happily listen to the Country station. I've gone from a plainskin to about 30% tattoo coverage. I've gone grey.

And I've grown closer to Bear over the years. We almost got married, you know.

I was working as the Senior Administrative Assistant to the Vice Chairman of Pathology in the Yale Medical School (the best Title I ever had!) and had amazing health insurance. (OH those were the days!) Bear desperately needed health insurance. I called him on my 17-cents-a-minute cell phone (having a Title did have its advantages!) and said that we should get married. He announced it to his family at the Thanksgiving dinner table.

I don't know why it fell through. I think we lost interest in the project. Anyway, he was the first man I almost married. (Even though we never hooked up, and I have received two engagement rings since, Bear was always my favorite. He's such a bitch.)

So. time has passed. Bear met David on my dad's birthday a thousand years ago. While I got dumped time and time again (and was the dump-er instead of the dumpee once), Bear and David persevered. They're absolutely wonderful together. David is a brilliant man. I know this because I typed his resume. He's got a big heart and really gives a damn about kids. I know this because I typed his resume.

Bear and David were planning to live in England this year. David got an amazing teaching opportunity.

Connecticut makes me proud; the people for whom I voted have made marriage between people who love each other LEGAL, never mind their genders.

Bear and David were back in the States; David had a conference on the West Coast.

Crossing the border from New York into Connecticut, into Greenwich, brought them halfway between their families.

The day after I put together my black outfit, Bear called me while I was at work. My poor boss had to listen to me bitch that I'd heard on Crackbook, and that I was wearing all black and wouldn't miss it for the world. Bear said that he was wearing all black, too. I was given permission to crash the wedding.

Much as I wanted to call the kids' dad, there was no way I'd be able to get him, even from a train station. He has issues with time. (There was the wedding he was in. I didn't know the couple but got there in a fair amount of time. He, the best man, missed the wedding. And there was the flight I missed... it's like my little brother's time issues, I swear!) I ran home after work to get Tommy, my trusted TomTom GPS, and to brush my teeth. Then it was off to Greenwich.

I was driving, I swear, the only Hyundai in town. When I got close to the Town Hall, I swished with Biotene and realized that there was no way I could spit it out the car door. (I have, incidentally, only done that once - on Racebrook Road in the middle of the night). Biotene is NOT meant to stay in one's mouth. UGH.

I missed the left turn into the Town Hall, and had to turn around. So scared I was going to be late! I saw a family coming in, and assumed that they were there for a wedding, too.

Bear was easy to spot. Along with the tattoos, he sported his Misfits shirt. So typical! So endearing.  Hugged him, hugged David, spoke to the families. Bear pointed to the other family and said, "That's Beth."

Beth is Bear's sister. I was always afraid of her. If ANYONE was going to say that I was not good enough for her little brother, it would be Beth.

She looks amazing. Like me, she underwent gastric bypass. Despite the pains of aging, she is just ... she brought tears to my eyes.

His other sister, Lillian, was there. There were grandchildren whose names I forget. There were his nieces, Lillian Ruth and Jean. When Lillian Ruth was a baby, Bear would amuse himself by picking on her. Like I said, he's a bitch.

We gazed at him, at them, with such love.

The marriage license is the same as that for heterosexual couples. As it damn well should be.

The Justice of Peace is a lovely lady with white hair, who was in tears with joy over being able to legally marry Bear and David. She beamed with happiness. She also enjoyed looking at our tattoos; no one had ever let her look closely. I really hate to be touched, but what the hell, she was so thrilled to be where she was, and for men that I love, that I let her. Her husband has a Bachelor of Fine Arts, and I suggested that he look into tattooing as a potential career move.

They said their vows. I believe that they really will love each other forever.

The families were going to dinner. I didn't have any money, so I was heading home when Beth said that I was going and that was that. Like I said, she scared me. (Bear was shocked: "But she'd never do anything to hurt you!")

I sat with Beth at my right, and even though I was very uncomfortable because there were, you know, people there, I think I did OK. It was a nice meal with better people, since I love Bear's family. We missed Gramma Rose, but we knew she was there. (Bear has her cremains in a tupperware; I'm surprised that he didn't bring her along.) I'm amazed at how Jean and Lillian Ruth have grown into women, but I guess it happens. Beth remembered Bear announcing that he was going to marry me, so it wasn't my imagination. (Actually, since I wasn't there when he made his declaration, I'd found out about it from Gramma Rose.)

Lillian, along with me, is also a big fan of glitter. She had a glitter bedroom. She bought it in bulk. We love glitter.

Only David could have been so wonderful as to treat us to his own (and Bear's) wedding dinner. Only Bear can call me "Bad Jew!" after I tried to pay my share, and get away with it. (Yay for Paypal - HAHA ON YOU <3 )

I knew the night wasn't about me, but I did take a moment to ask Bear why men have treated me so shabbily recently. This is a man who said that he wanted, for his birthday, to go out with me in high heels and watch me fall down. (The night we walked along an icy street, he missed my falldowngoboom.) This is the man who tortured his little niece. He's mean for fun. Even he couldn't come up with a way that his gender's behavior could be my fault.

I had an hour drive home, and was emotionally exhausted from being allowed to be part of such an enormously wonderful day and from sitting in a room with strangers. I said my goodbyes, even though I didn't want to, and headed out.


And that's how I crashed my husband's wedding.

--
I want to believe that the world is just teeming with awesome people, but all of this is giving me great pause. I want to go back to cyberspace.
- Penelope Garcia, Criminal Minds
Episode: "House Afire"