United States and United Kingdom

usa-uk-flagI have a friend whose brother married a Chicago Cubs fan.  This was troubling, because her  brother is loyal to the Boston Red Sox, and the supporters of these two baseball teams aren’t known for being friendly to their rivals. Further complicating matters, the Cubs are in the National League, and the Red Sox are in the American, so it is possible that these two teams will meet up in the World Series one day, causing all kinds of familial angst. (Except that the Cubs have trouble reaching the World Series – the last time they got that far was in 1945, and they haven’t won the championship in over a 100 years.  The Cubs are the saddest team in baseball. The Red Sox have been a little more successful.)

To show that they were ready to overcome these baseball differences, the bride and groom devised a symbolic gesture: during the wedding, a little girl and a little boy came up the aisle, one wearing a Cubs cap, the other, Red Sox.  When they got to the front, the exchanged caps.

I’ve been thinking about that story as my daughter makes plans to marry an Englishman.  Her wedding will be the union of two people, and two families, and two countries. There’s already been some confusion about the planning, since we’re having two weddings, one in London and one in LA, and the expectations and traditions are different on the two sides of the pond. It seems we all speak the same language, but we don’t always understand each other.

So I’ve been thinking we need something for a symbolic exchange during the ceremonies. Maybe flags. Lovely cups of coffee and tea. Or shots of high quality bourbon and gin.

Now that would be a fun wedding.

Holding Hands

DtlaBridgeMy husband and I were walking through downtown LA, strolling among the homeless and the hipsters, looking for a mezcal bar he wanted to try.

A film crew was setting up on the street.  A youngish man wearing security badges and carrying a big cup of coffee stepped out to the sidewalk and grinned at us.

“Holding hands!” he said.

“Absolutely,” my husband responded, like he had these conversations all the time.

“After all these years,” said the youngish man, who had never seen us before in his life. “Holding hands.”

I felt like saying, “Actually, we met on Tinder an hour ago,” but I didn’t.

We kept walking.   The youngish man went back to the film set. I saw him corner one of the crew people and point at us.

“Holding hands!” he said.  “After all these years.”

Up ahead, we saw a bouncer rousting a couple of homeless people out of the doorway of the mezcal bar.  He glanced at us, nodded, and jerked his thumb towards the door.  “You guys are okay,” he said.

I was relieved.  I needed a drink.

(A-Z Challenge Day Eight: the letter H.)