We married on a Thursday.
Two years on, we celebrated the cotton anniversary and it allowed a natural opportunity to reflect on the day itself plus how our marriage is going so far.
Our wedding day itself was a Thursday, Maundy in fact, and the sun shone on the righteous as the chauffeur told me on the way to Rufford. I had not slept well – perhaps still recovering from the stag the weekend earlier, when I met Johan Cruyff and saw Iniesta and Messi score, the holy trinity… But certainly due to nerves that our months of intricate planning would go ok.
I woke early and went for a ‘proper’ shave, a great experience that I would like to have again when not so edgy. Walking back, I remember buying a paper and just being in a complete daze. A bottle of estrella with my best man and ushers sorted me out and when Elvis’s 1975 Fleetwood Cadillac turned up, I was good to go.
Despite being described as ‘puce’ before the ceremony, everything went as planned and it was as if in a dream dreamt by another. We were overjoyed to become betrothed and made our way to the Vincent Hotel.
Fast forward two years and we returned there yesterday. It’s in Southport, a lovely town that a Pop Artist would have loved given the Victorian elegance, kitsch glamour, multi millionaires and chav pov chic, high and low culture that are evident on every street, and to be honest, embodies its charm. England’s Classic Resort is either the most beautiful or most depressing place, depending on what time it is, and perhaps the only location where you might find an ashtray like this:
Anyway, we love it, especially the hotel that the reception was held at. The venue and staff on the day were just perfect and yesterday the same, all of us including Betsy was made to feel special and they arranged some synchronicitous celebrity appearances for us too.
Suggs was playing at the Atkinson next door later that day, and skulked outside smoking a cigarette. We had of course seen him in concert at Aintree a few years back, the venue of that day’s Grand NAtional. Then, in walked Aiden McGeady, recent Everton signing who I wasn’t too sure about but is growing on me, especially after he walked past our table and I shook his hand. It had been his birthday the previous day, but the real coincidence was that our page boy on the big day and both our god sons, share his first name.
We were treated to some prosecco and talked about the day we had enjoyed in 2012: Anniversaries are something I have been thinking about a lot recently, that opportunity to reminisce and reflect, the commemoration of an important milestone good or bad. Obviously they are largely only important to the people directly involved, though their very recognition can then evoke sentiments amongst strangers, who develop an interest in the date and from then on will celebrate it in one form or another because they can’t ignore or forget what happened that day.
Similarly, if a day becomes important, naturally one looks for significance throughout history, and again, coincidence became apparent for April 5th. Naturally for us we think about the year before the wedding, we were in Barcelona as a gift of Jay and contemplating what would be; last year, we were in Nice enjoying steak tartare and planning for the birth of our unborn.
But, going further back, on that day, Pocahontas married John Rolfe; Oscar wilde was arrested (I kissed his grave stone a few years back at Pere Lachaise cemetary in Paris)… Bomber Harris, whom I have been teaching about this year plus Howard Hughes, Tom Finney (a childhood hero who died recently) and Allen Ginsberg (quoter of the following:
“The weight of the world is love.
Under the burden of solitude,
under the burden of dissatisfaction
the weight,the weight we carry is love….”
““Everything is holy! everybody’s holy! everywhere is holy! everyday is in eternity! Everyman’s an angel!”
“I know too much and not enough”
All very apt. And also, on this day twenty years ago, Kurt Cobain ended his life and although he never really influenced me, he did my generation.
Talking of influential musical genii, the new album from Mr Moz is on its way and I am slowly growing in excitement for it. Dermot O’Leary, when talking about his own marriage and honeymoon, might not be: “We walked into a hotel in Rome and we dumped our bags and we came downstairs to the courtyard and had the strangest situation – David Moyes, the Everton manager, was sat over there and Morrissey was sat over there.” He approached Morrissey, whom he had previously interviewed for his BBC Radio show: “I went over and I said, ‘It’s lovely to see you’, and he said these words: ‘Really? I’m sure you’d say the same thing to Barry Manilow or Gary Barlow’.
“I said, ‘No it is. Morrissey, I’m here on my honeymoon’, and he said, ‘It won’t last, these things never do’.”
Now Steven Patrick has been pretty outspoken about religion and Jesus in particular, now unfortunately for him we will be confirmed this holiday and perhaps will eat loads of meat, showing that when once I would have gone along with anything he said, marriage has changed things a little, and now I am confident enough to go against what he suggests.
especially when Andrew Warhola shares his own inimitable opinion:
So thanks Lisa for an unforgettable two years and for Bets for enhancing the whole thing.
Next time: I am the resurrection.