Getting Married

Let me just say some things about getting married.

Wait, what?

I was married in Hanelei Bay, in Princeville, Kaua’i, on July 6, 2010 at approximately 4:30 PM local time. On the East Coast, that translates to about 10:30 PM in the evening. I waited until the next day to call my parents so as not to ruin their good-night’s sleep.

Wait, what? I called my parents because Danielle (I call her Danny) and I decided to get married in Hawaii while we were in Kaua’i. As dedicated and often-suffering-from-lack-of-content readers will know, we had a great time there in 2008, and we were planning to head back there for vacation this year again. Without downgrading the importance of the event, getting married there was incidental to the trip; we were going anyway.

Aside from enjoying the effect of saying something like that, the reason I point this out is that as you may have guessed, we eloped. We both love Kaua’I and, once we decided that we wanted to get married there, it was easier to rationalize the decision to not tell anybody about it until afterward.

Let me say something about weddings. (As I type this I realize only Blogger and technical difficulties could prevent me from entering this blog, so when I ask “Let me...,” I’ll just imagine you sipping coffee and nodding your silent acquiescence. Wearing a fez. Stroking your pet parrot. And raising one eyebrow whenever a particularly interesting passage is read.) I. Never. Liked. Weddings. I don’t even like the idea of weddings. Even if you remove the religious implications (which you can quite easily!), I’ve just found all the traditions associated with it to be uncomfortable and unnecessary.

For me, marriage is an intimate thing. My relationship with Danny has been very intimate, as she has become my best friend over the last three years. All our favorite moments have been just us together, and I felt that having a public spectacle would downgrade the moment. I wanted to it just be us.

Lucky for me, my wife felt the same way.

Let me say some things about keeping your wedding a secret. It’s not as hard as you think, if of course you are me. First, imagine you are the sort of person who doesn’t enjoy talking about weddings or your relationship with other people. Then imagine you are also the kind of kid (well, adult, too) who likes to know things that other people don’t know. Not to taunt people with, but just to know. Combine the two, and it was pretty easy to not discuss it. In fact it was rather enjoyable.

I made a few exceptions to the don’t-tell-anyone-plan, each in a different manner. The first people to know were actually friends we visited in Atlanta during March Madness. Let’s just say the two Long Island Iced Teas that capped off a day-long masterpiece of basketball watching loosened my tongue a little too much.

The second was my long-time friend Gary, whom I was visiting in Philly about a month before the wedding. With full intent of mischievousness, I entered in “Jones wedding” on the July 6 date on their family wedding calendar. Gary texted me three weeks later to ask what the heck that was about. That was just plain fun.

The third was I asked Danny’s father for permission to marry her. One of the few traditions and gestures I wanted to make.

Everyone else was in the dark, as planned.

So, as I mentioned at the outset, we got married. It was just us two, the officially-licensed marriage performer and his son, the photographer. The beach was beautiful, my wife is beautiful, and I wouldn’t have done it any other way.

And about getting married: I wasn’t nervous, I wasn’t anxious. I was ready to get married and especially to this woman. It just felt right. I guess when you get older those nerves and such just go away. Or when you have the right girl.
Finally, let me say something about Mrs. Jones. Yes, she decided to take my last name. I didn’t have any real particular feeling about this tradition either, except for one bothersome notion. I’m only a mere engineer, but my wife will someday soon get her doctorate in education. Which means that she will be Doctor Jones. Having been called that nickname for many, many years (in reference to Indiana Jones), I’m just a wee bit jealous that’s she’ll be the one with the actual title.

[Mental note: Explore doctorate degrees. Quickly.]


Jaquandor said...

Well, congratulations! And as a wedding gift, here's a tidbit you've been after for some time.

Captain Senoj was going to die horribly. Oh yes.

Mr. Jones said...

In the tradition of such such great lines delivered by Ewan McGregor and James Earl Jones: "Nooooooooooooooooooooo!"

At least I can comfort myself in knowing that you'll never finish off Senoj. So he can live on in my equally unplanned and unfinished fan fiction... of your fan fiction... or something.

Rats. You win.

Jaquandor said...

Thing is, I never figured out how he was going to die horribly. Maybe I'll resurrect him in a future work and promptly kill him!

Roger Owen Green said...


Call me Paul said...

You do know your mothers will never forgive you.


Oh, congratulations.

Mr. Jones said...

Regarding mother's lack of forgiveness, I look forward to it.

KEVO13 said...

Well, this covered just about everything it was supposed to cover. I have only one minor, possibly irrelevant, complaint.

Your accounting of the time from wedding to the following morning suggests that you did not tell certain people in the middle of the effing night, waking them up with a text sent at 2:30 in the morning (EDT) on the 7th. You seem to have almost purposely omitted it. Your readers should know - I haven't been back to sleep since.