The Fiancee (now Mrs. Pogoer) and I tied the knot on April 13 in West Orange, NJ. Although we’re both 43, we feel like newlyweds (or young marrieds, even) as much as anyone, especially since it’s the first time for both of us. Everyone who attended has told us what a great time they had, and how much they enjoyed meeting everyone from all the various ‘compartments’ in our lives. We’re both pleasantly surprised that there was so little that went wrong on that day — Donna’s father, who had been ill of late, rallied to attend the ceremony and reception, and my 86-year-old great-aunt, whom I hadn’t seen in years, came in from the Bronx. Good friends of the family from the Netherlands even came (though my pals from Slovenia were unavoidably occupied elsewhere, alas).
It was an ‘adult’ (or Late Boomer) wedding — no Kool and the Gang, no Whitney, no garter or bouquet-throwing (though we did cut the cake to the strains of “When I’m 64”, and danced to Brave Combo’s version of the Chicken Dance). Our reception site was a manor house with a classic view of the Manhattan skyline, and the seven-piece band was great: they specialized in big-band, swing and the classic American songbook, though they did play “They Don’t Know” not once but twice for us (D. had sent the charts), and we made background tapes featuring Louis Armstrong, Amy Rigby, Jonathan Richman, Tom Waits and Nick Lowe (and the Carpenters’ “For All We Know”). D. (who’s played professionally) even sat in with the band on double bass for one number; the first time, in fact, I’d seen her play with a combo in public!
The ceremony was spiritual and moving, but we made pains to make sure the reception was fun; Groucho glasses were on every table as favors, and we got matchless wedding photos out of these humble props (it was the wife’s idea; when she mentioned it to me, I knew I’d found the right gal). In all, it was a high we’re still coming down from; I want to do it all over again, and I’m surprised that we’re not recognized on the street as the Bride and Groom…
People advised us to enjoy it while it was going on ’cause the party goes by in a flash (especially when you seem to be constantly posing for photos!) and, yes, we did, and it did. Now we’re back in Texas, moving the last bits out of our old house and into our new one, and busy with painting and hanging drapes and such. Life is good, and salted with occasional miracles, and we’re determined to enjoy it while it’s here.
Blessings to y’all.