The Wedding Bill Blues

As I may have mentioned before, I am dangerously close to becoming an old coot, if in fact, that particular white-belt-and-shoes-to-match bridge hasn't been crossed already.

The latest sign that I am utterly and inexorably out of touch with modern American culture came last week at a large chain of tuxedo rental places.

A good friend is getting married (well, he may not be a "good friend" if he and his bride see this), and I've been asked to be part of the wedding party, which requires me to rent a monkey suit.

(Actually, it would be quite a different --- and in my opinion, better --- wedding if the bridal party wore genuine monkey suits. But no one asked me.)

...

Time was when you could rent a tux at Kadar's or David Israel's or Hi-Way Tux Shop ("VAlley 3-8042"), and be fitted by someone who actually looked like they had worn formal clothes at some point in their life.

Alas, the staff at this place (chosen by my friend and the bride because the groom's tux is free) was barely old enough to shave, let alone tie a necktie without mom's help. "Customer service" were vague words they had heard only once, briefly, in between personal cell phone calls.

And, it's prom time, which means that the rest of the customers in the joint were (like the staff) also 17-something. Everyone in the place was staring at me as if I was their dad, or possibly a narc. (I had just come from work and was wearing a suit and tie.)

...

Finally, someone who looked like she remembered the first George Bush took pity and took my measurements. The bride and groom wanted everyone to rent shoes as well, she said. Fine. They turned out to be plain black loafers of that really phony-looking shiny leatherette favored by high-school marching bands. And naturally, they didn't have them in my size.

(I take a triple-E shoe, and you know what they say about a guy with big feet. That's right: He pays more for shoes.)

Then she showed me the tux. "Is this OK?"

"Well, since it's what everyone else is wearing, I don't think I have much choice." She laughed.

...

The tux jacket was a plain single-breasted business suit cut --- no tails, and not a cutaway. The men in the wedding party won't be wearing bowties, just plain silk neckties. The shirts don't even have French cuffs. Total damage, $92.

So, I'm paying almost $100 to rent a plain black suit for one night (for less than $200, I could buy the same damned suit off the rack at Berks), plus I have to take a pair of uncomfortable shoes that aren't as nice looking as the black leather Florsheims I wore into the store. And they've got to be back before 12 noon the day after the wedding, or they'll ding me for another day's rental.

At least I don't have to worry that I'll look like a goober (any more than usual). But if I'm out 92 clams for a tuxedo, I think I should at least be getting the whole shebang --- ruffled shirt, cummerbund, maybe a powder-blue jacket with shiny black lapels or a red crushed-velvet job. Maybe I'll rent one of those for the reception.

...

Don't get me wrong --- my friend's a great guy, his bride is wonderful, too, and I'm honored as all get out to stand around and try not to make an idiot of myself at their wedding. But if you're a grumpy grouse (and I'm single, or does that go without saying?) like me, some of the preparations start to seem a bit silly, or at least way overpriced.

Take the food at the wedding reception. Back in my kidhood, Mon Valley wedding receptions were held at the fire hall, and featured the classic menu of "riggy, piggy, chicky" with a cookie table. My friend's wedding --- like all of the ones I've been to recently --- is being held at a banquet facility that specializes in weddings, and it's going to cost the bride and groom a couple of double sawbucks for each person who attends.

And frankly, my friend and his bride are doing things sensibly and conservatively, compared to some other recent weddings I've seen.

...

In a stunning coincidence, I arrived home from the tuxedo shop to read in the Christian Science Monitor that weddings are now a $120 billion per year industry in this country:

Nuptial sticker shock has become a sobering fact of life for many brides and grooms as wedding bells produce ever-larger wedding bills. More than a quarter of engaged couples now pay for everything themselves. With weddings averaging $23,000, some newlyweds remain indebted for years. Some must even seek credit counseling.

And just who do you think is pushing these spiraling costs? Why, florists, caterers and tuxedo rental shops, writer Kamy Wicoff tells the Monitor. "They imply that if you're looking at cutting costs or not doing things 'right' --- which is code for 'expensively' --- your priorities aren't straight," she says.

Increasingly elaborate weddings are self-perpetuating: If you see your friends spending five grand on flowers, well, you don't want to look like some cheap yobbo when you get married, so you spend six grand. Your friends see this, and when they get married, they spend seven grand to outdo your wedding. And so on.

...

I mean, seriously: Twenty-three grand? I know I'm an old poop, but the wedding and the reception take a total of what, four hours? Maybe five?

The couple is going to spend (Lord willing) the rest of their lives together. So wouldn't that $23,000 be better spent on a smaller, less ostentatious reception ... and a kick-ass honeymoon that lasts a week or two? I mean, if you're spending that kind of money, make the memories last. Crossing the Atlantic on the most luxurious cruise ship in the world --- Cunard's Queen Mary 2 --- would cost only about $1,300 per person, plus return airfare.

That would beat the hell out of spending the same money for two hours in a banquet hall on the Parkway, wouldn't it? Or, on a practical level, wouldn't that money make one heckuva down payment on a dream house?

(This all, probably, explains why I'm not married.)

Anyway: I'm looking forward to my friend's wedding. I'm also looking forward to them having a long, happy marriage, because I think they're both swell people.

But the morning after the reception, before I take back this tux, I am going to be very, very busy. I intend to paint my living room, change the oil in my car, and cut the grass, all before 12 noon.

Because if I have to pay $92, I am going to beat the living crap out of this tuxedo.