I'm not in favor of gay marriages, nor am I in favor of straight ones. What's it really all about anyway, Alfie? Why the need to glue down a day one year in advance and -- oh my! -- spend money on all those trimmings? I hate being in weddings, and I can't stand the tacky and sometimes puffy taffeta bridesmaids dresses, or watching men squeeze their necks into rented tuxes, causing tux rash for a week.
I believe in legal collaborations, like you would take on if you were ghostwriting a book with someone. It's simply a verbal handshake in some cases. You get all the perks of the wedded, like health insurance, hospital visits and taking turns picking either the iron or the car on a Monopoly board, but -- sorry! -- you share the restaurant bill, the utility bill and household repairs. Men must cook, and women must take out the garbage, barbecue things and chomp on cigars. In the case of gay couples, men legally collaborating with men can still wear their designer suits, and gals collaborating with gals can lie low and wear jeans, as I would, but if you have to pull out the Armani tux to say, "I legally collaborate with you," then do it. The whole concept is very fluid.
You don't have to spend your parents' life savings, or your own, on that one day when you get to exchange rings. That way, we're an equal society, carat-wise, which puts jewelers out of business. I know this is bad for their economy, but they've had a good run all these centuries. They can find jobs as bank tellers, given that they understand money so well. They've been receiving it for so long that it's payback time.
You don't have to have a party with some awful crooner serenading you on the dance floor with an Andy Williams tune. "Moon River" again, really? It's actually a breakup song if you listen to the lyrics ("Oh, dream maker, you heartbreaker..."), which is foreboding. Sure, have a party, but spare yourselves the formal, Bible-like proceedings and pope-like chit-chat at the altar with a priest, or whomever your religion doth request. Have a party at a slum bar instead of at a rented wedding hall that looks like something made for Barbie and Ken, or Barbie and Midge, or Ken and G.I. Joe.
In place of a honeymoon, well, just moon your honey on a "vacation." Start your collaboration fun. Don't ask for the honeymoon suite with a heart-shaped-bed sprinkled with rose pedals; get bunk beds and climb on down. You want to be close, right?
Love should never be controlling. And love might not be forever. Odds in Vegas would probably roll against it. This legal collaboration allows all the important essentials of a marriage. It's just a looser term and easier for someone to let go and un-collaborate. It's much more 2013 than 2012. It's not something that needs to be voted on by states or decided by the Supreme Court. If you feel the need, just give me a call to say that you have officially legally collaborated! I'll anoint you in spirit with extra virgin olive oil. I'll use the good stuff.
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