Weddings have long been a tradition celebrated around the world as a time of joyous gatherings for friends and family members of the nuptialers. For it is at this time that people can get together and wish the newlyweds well and admire all the gifts that they get and to wager how items will be divided up after the divorce some years later.
Now Ol’ Dutch never minded giving friends some kind of token present for daring to even start a matrimonial joining but the Gift Registry is the greatest scam ever foisted upon the adoring public.
For it is at this time that friends are suddenly introduced to a list of “approved” items that the bride has selected for “you” to purchase. And not only are you to select from her list but these same gifts will be opened and displayed for all her friends and yours to see at the wedding venue. Which sets it all up to be some kind of competition whereby people try and “one up” one another to see who loves the lovely bride more and buys her the most expensive item from Tiffany’s.
Now Ol’ Dutch has long been a victim of said scam and bought countless items for the bride to take when she files for divorce. And the reason I know that is no man is part of choosing the registry location. For if he was, he would choose Cabelas, Golf World, Bass Pro, Big Bob’s Jerky Palace or Jim’s Bar and Grill to be on the approved list.
Ol’ Dutch got to thinking about where this leaning toward the female persuasion of gifts all started and I suppose it may have been way back when Eve, Adam's wife, got the first apple peeler from her friends back in the garden and we all know how that worked out.
But regardless of its source, it's always the women who choose said registry locations as the man stands idly by wondering how he will ever filet a fish with the silver handled cake knife that will forever be stored in a drawer somewhere. Of course, said neophyte only cares that the bride is happy, and he will soon be enjoying unlimited sex by making her happy with a ring, house, income and wedding niceties. Boy, are men stupid.
Ol’ Dutch is lucky that he has reached the advanced age where my friends are either all married or if marrying anew, already have two households full of toasters and silverware, crystal goblets, candle sticks, salt dishes, cake knives, blenders and other such registry items and so relieves the rest of us from buying them a gift.
And the invitations usually say no gifts are expected in the invite which lets me off the hook no matter what Miss Trixie says. For you see, she still takes gifts to people for no reason at all. And boy did she ever get messed around as she has never been a bride and never been able to “get even” with all her friends she bought wedding presents for down through the years.
Lately there has been a move by brides to send out detailed announcements about what each person is expected to spend on gifts and the list has included diamonds and jewelry, boats and cars and even houses. Which would send a definite message to Ol’ Dutch that they no longer wanted to be friends.
Thankfully most men in these situations have been able to bow out of going to the actual event and can leave that up to their wife and her friends to attend and have a good cry. Which is also where they get their booster shot of wedding cake that has long been known as an inoculation against sex. For it's about the time they first partake of said white scrumptious goodness that they find out that they want a house and cars and not some sweaty man pawing over them all the time.
So, for those of you still stuck in the age where wedding attendance is still a part of your lives or you give gifts to people to buy their friendship, God bless you and your bank account as you are forever in a loop that you cannot escape. And for the wedded couple, enjoy the heartfelt birthday card that I got you for the blessed event since that's all I could find at the Dollar Store on short notice.
Kevin Kirkpatrick and his Yorkie, Cooper, fish, hunt, ATV or hike daily. His email is [email protected] Additional news can be found atwww.troutrepublic.com