I Now Pronounce You…

So, a while back, my daughter asked me if I would marry her. I told her she was too late, I was already spoken for. All kidding aside, what she really meant was if I would agree to be the officiant at the ceremony. This request seemed a bit odd since my theological knowledge is severely lacking and I am not a “man of the cloth,” although I do like the feel and cut of a fine suit. I learned that I could become an ordained minister online and that would allow me to perform the service. Needless to say, I was a bit skeptical that this was on the up and up. With my curiosity peaked, I started to research the viability and legality of becoming an ordained minister by merely registering online. As it turns out, it’s true!

Did you know that real, live, actual personalities such as Conan O’Brian, Stephen Colbert and Paul McCartney have been ordained online just like me. Still not convinced, I called the Probate Court clerk to get the real story. She was very accommodating and patient as I peppered her with questions. Bottom line, it is all legal and becoming more and more popular. Couples are seeking the familiarity of family and friends as officiants at their weddings. This is cutting edge stuff and I was all in!

Armed with the imprimatur of the court, I filled out the online form and presto, I was an ordained minister. I purchased a wedding kit and used a script generator to write the ceremony. Within a month, I officiated at my daughter’s wedding. It was a once in a lifetime experience for me and hopefully for her too… no returns!

Eligible Receiver

 

The Groaning Board

Super Bowl Sunday is right around the corner. The New England Patriots versus the Philadelphia Eagles at US Bank Stadium, home of The Minnesota Vikings. Truth be told, I had no idea who was playing or where it was being held. I just Googled it. Clearly, I’m not a fan.

It’s all about the food…

However, I’ve been invited to a Super Bowl party and I can’t wait! It’s time to loosen my belt and gorge on a groaning board of food. The lineup: chili, dips, chips, hot dogs, sandwiches, cheese, crackers, wings and demon alcohol. Competitive eating at its best! I’m training right now to become an eating machine. The playbook is quite clear on this matter, eat until you pass out! Stand aside and watch your fingers, lest they be mistaken for sausage links. Forward pass me that bowl of chips, blitz me a beer, am I an eligible receiver for some of that chili? It’s kickoff time!

It will be a grand day indeed, except, as previously stated, I’m not a football fan. Never have been, never will be. I don’t know the rules nor do I care to learn them. To save face, I’ll pretend to know what’s happening on the field. “Did you see that play?” “Sure did, was that a field goal or a touchdown? Beats the pig skin out of me! Testosterone will fill the air as I fist pump and hoot and holler with my compadres. It will be an Oscar worthy performance! I’ll zig and zag, just like the players on the field. “Was that a third down?” Uh oh, I don’t know, pass me the chicken wings.