A toast: To wedding memories that last forever

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This was my summer of weddings. I went to my fourth last weekend. I have one more to go. In Florida, in October.

If Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes invite me to their impending nuptials, that would be six. It's fine with me if they don't. I've eaten enough cake for one season.

I now consider myself a bit of an expert on all things bridal.

Strapless gowns are in, open bars remain more popular than the bride, a good band makes all the difference, and the toast by the best man can still make the guests, especially the bride's mother, very nervous.

So far nothing has happened at any of my summer weddings that could be described as downright embarrassing. I know, it's disappointing.

What are they going to talk about years from now? How lovely the wedding was or the uncle who fell into the wedding cake?

I suspect that many of us go to weddings hoping something will happen. It's like the lure of a NASCAR race. Sooner or later, there's bound to be a crash. Who will it be?

I still remember the wedding where the best man fainted at the altar, stealing whatever thunder the bride might have hoped for. It remains one of the best weddings I've ever attended. A moment of spontaneity.

Weddings today, of course, are highly programmed, right down to whether it's salmon or filet mignon on your plate.

There's the DJ. "And now, for the first time, introducing Mr. and Mrs. Newlywed!"

There's the over-the-top wedding cake. A work of art worth thousands. There are the flowers that cost more than your college tuition.

But the thing I find most intriguing about weddings today is the cameraman -- the guy who stands behind his tripod, next to the groom in the front of the church, videotaping the bride as she comes down the aisle. Sometimes I'm not sure which is the groom until he steps forward and takes the bride's hand.

I suppose there are those who wish to watch a wedding processional more than once. I'm not one of them. I never even watch movies twice. I like my weddings live. And once is enough.

The mother of the bride at last weekend's celebration might have the right idea. She re-lives her wedding every five years or so. Literally. No going to the videotape for her.

She and a group of friends gather at the Jersey shore, don their wedding dresses, and play bride all over again.

Some can't quite get into their gowns, of course, but that doesn't stop them. Who needs to be zipped up all the way, anyway? Plunging backs are the order of the day.

These "brides" then party into the night, reminiscing about that special day long ago -- long before DJs became MCs, and video cameras recorded your every move.

They reunited again this past weekend. The newest bride in the lot, the real bride of the day before, even postponed her honeymoon to join them, partying with her mother and the other brides from years gone by.

Wearing her gown two days in a row, she looked even more beautiful the second time around, something that surprised not a one of the other brides.

E-mail cwilson@usatoday.com

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