Weddings aren't quite that simple

In the summer of 1996, through some connections, I landed a part-time gig writing for two weekly newspapers: The Cass Lake (Minn.) Times and the Northwoods Press of Nevis, Minn. During the summer while I was interning at The Bemidji (Minn.) Pioneer, I also wrote a number of features and covered some Laporte (Minn.) School Board meetings for these two papers. I ended up with some great stories, and received a food following among their readers.

July 18, 1996

By Devlyn Brooks

Okay, it's been three weeks since I asked my fiancé to marry me, and I must admit there was a certain amount of naivete on my part as to all of this wedding stuff.

Of course, I grew up thinking: "A guy falls in love with a woman. You ask. She say, 'Yes.' You contact everybody, and you have a wedding."

Oh, how naïve I was.

Sure, there has to be some sort of book out there for those of us who are so foolish, but no one ever volunteered to tell me where this book is.

So, being the kindhearted soul that I am, I feel it necessary to jot down a list of things no one ever told me about weddings. I feel that if I can spare one lost soul some of the surprises I have endured, my troubles will not be for naught.

For instance, no one ever bothered to tell me about engagement rings. You may think buying a ring is simple. I did. ... I was wrong.

No one told me that to buy an engagement ring I would have to sell my internal organs and the future of my grandchildren that I don't even have. And that ring was on sale. Oh, I almost forgot, never mention the word "sale."

No one ever told me the actual buying of a ring would take the better part of an afternoon, either. I figured you go into the store, find a ring you like and purchase it. He, he, he.

Oh, how jewelry stores like to see people like me walk through the doors. I'm sure they can probably tell the moment we enter. We've go that deer-in-the-headlights look, and we're wandering aimlessly behind enemy lines. It is foreign to us.

No one ever told me about the four "Cs." And trust me, don't ask the salesperson which team they play on. They don't appreciate the attempt at humor.

The four "Cs," I learned, are cut, clarity, color and carat. These determine the price of a diamond and, from what I found out, pay close attention to the fourth "C."

No one ever told me about the attitude you're supposed to have toward planning a wedding. Let me give you some helpful hints.

First, the order of importance in decision-making is as follows: Financial consequences, her opinion, time, and your opinion ranks somewhere in the low thirties next to consulting one of those magic "eight balls."

Never forget that everything that will go wrong is the mans' fault. For instance, say her church blows up because the furnace was faulty. She will say it's your fault because you sabotaged the furnace, thinking you wouldn't have to get married.

It is unjust, I know, but don't fight it. Just accept it and things will smooth out over time.

And finally, it doesn't matter if it is the tiniest detail, even if she's asking what type of punch to serve. Never, and I mean never, say that you don't care about it.

Well, I hope this has been helpful. It's as much as I have learned so far, but old veterans tell me that just because I've made it this far, doesn't mean I've survived yet. They say they've seen comrades fall much later in the game than this.

(Devlyn Brooks is a student at Bemidji State University, a summer intern at the Bemidji Pioneer daily newspaper, a part-time reporter for the Northwoods Press, where he is covering Laporte School Board, and an occasional reporter for the Cass Lake Times.)