Chelsea's Getting Married

Little Chelsea Clinton’s getting married this weekend, and I thought I’d get invited, but they made this rule that only those who know the bride or groom can come.  But how about all my memories?  Don’t those count for something?

I can even picture what her old nose and chin used to look like when I realized that we made the same restriction--not about the nose--but about knowing the couple when our daughter Barbra got married last January.

Which got me to wondering.

What other things do our weddings have in common?

Theirs cost a whopping 3.2 million—I can’t even imagine—while ours was… Let’s just say “the point two” would work well in our budget with funds left over to feed the homeless in New York and L.A through the rest of the summer. 

As for the guest count, it was reported that 400 are coming in for the Clintons’ shindig.  We had a respectable 166 and had to settle up with the hotel 72 hours in advance for all of our guests.   As of this morning the New York Times reported that the Clintons still didn’t know if the Obamas were attending, and they’re paying 6,000 bucks a head.  My God.  That’s twelve grand for a couple of no shows.

In our case we also paid extra for the band’s dinners, so that the musicians wouldn’t go hungry, but if the Obamas make an appearance, we’re talking Secret Service, pilots, hair dresser, assistants…

Can the residents on Pennsylvania Avenue get a group rate for the help?

It's all been very secretive, but at least we know it’s at the Astor Courts in Rhinebeck, New York, nestled in the Hudson Valley not far from Franklin Roosevelt’s home in Hyde Park.

Yeah, but what are they serving?

At ours, the guests had a choice of sirloin or mahi mahi, but what do you get for six grand?

I’ve been calling all day but nobody’s talking, so here’s my guess:

Choice of wine from an unlimited cellar, the stripper of your choice (Bill’s suggestion), chocolate bar, cheese bar, sushi bar, McDonald’s and fries (also Bill’s suggestion) pheasant under glass, over glass, behind the glass…

And what about breaking THE glass?

Marc Mezvinsky’s Jewish.  Chelsea’s Methodist.  Will she convert?  No one thinks so, or that’s what the media says.  Of course, the Methodist minister can handle the ceremony alone, as can the rabbi. Or the two can perform together and orchestrate the specific traditions.

Of course, we only had a rabbi, but I bet that the two clergy will join together because I can see Marc smashing that bundle into a mass of slivery shards.

Later, speeches will be given.  I hear the father knows how to talk, like Bob but much better, and has a rip roaring life to back him up.  The mother too lives a path of nonstop excitement, though she’s not the public storyteller her husband’s become.

And then sometimes, no matter how much you spend, everything turns out the same.

You wish the newlyweds congratulations, good health, wealth, happiness...

And that the no-shows finally show.