This month has been quite the maelstrom of epicness. Well, not in regards to my life, but in regards to those around me. Of the people I know, more have come out of this month married than divorced, so that’s always nice. In addition to the newly crowned Darcie Adkins, nee Vaillant, Caitlyn LePard, one of my dearest friends for these last twenty-odd years, is now Caitlyn Atkinson. Frankly, I’m a little annoyed that there’s been all this alphabetical order queue jumping. Don’t we have to wait behind enough ‘A’ names as it is? I’m extremely happy for Caitlyn and Jim – in fact so happy that a hyperbolic statement is virtually impossible in attempting to describe my elation – and it was honestly the first wedding I ever cried at.

 I had the honour/stress of driving up to Manning Park, the lovely wedding venue, with Caitlyn a few days before the wedding to meet up with Steve, the groomsman/wedding planner, to start setting everything up. Despite the stress and workload, everything went swimmingly. Which was fantastic for Caitlyn and Jim, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t secretly hoping for it to play out like a late-eighties comedy; something to fill the void John Hughes left. There was the usual cavalcade of mishaps and stock characters continually teetering on the edge of emotional breakdown, but everything ended well and happy, with only minor injuries. Personally, my funny bone could have used a few more footballs to the groin, but at the least the bride and groom were happy. I’m sure they didn’t think slapstick would have suited their wedding anyway.

Which brings me to the oft-heard post-wedding ramble of “if I get married….” I know most people say “when,” but I’m really an “if.” If I get married I want humour. I want something that I can turn into box office gold. And here is where it can’t be funny:

(1) THE PREPARATION My Big Fat Greek Wedding already perfectly summed up what my family would be like helping me plan a wedding, only they’re British, not Greek, and thus a little less funny. We could try something Father of the Bride style, but there are two problems, (a) My dad isn’t really that funny, and (b) He doesn’t really get bothered by anything. Can’t top it.

(2) THE STAGETTE Let’s face it, my sister Bri will be my maid of honour, and she will throw me the Most Amazing Stagette Ever. If you know my sister, you know that it will be a Gong Show par excellance. Once, when we were drunk, I did force her to pinkie swear that I would at least be able to remember my stagette. So, no The Hangover on this one, even if it did make a mint. Also, let’s face it, people are far more willing to go to a film where men make drunken asses of themselves rather than women. Sad truth of the film world: women are only acceptable as bland love interests, evil witches, domineering mothers, or hookers with a heart of gold.

(3) THE HONEYMOON Have you ever seen a movie about a couple on their honeymoon that is actually funny? (B-movie horror flicks don’t count.) Yeah, didn’t think so.

(4) MEETING THE IN-LAWS If my future spouse has a Monster-in-Law, I’m not marrying them. Straight up. I’d rather die alone than deal your bitchy mother my whole life, thank you. My family is pretty important to me, and they like pretty much anyone, so we don’t have to worry about that. Unless they have an event to react to, things would be remarkably banal. My mom might get drunk and crack a few jokes, Bri will come up with a few comebacks, but that’s about it. If it’s just them meeting another family, it would be boring. There’s nothing that could really go wrong to provide the opportunity for comedy. Sure, my dad might break out the bocce set and someone might crack the cat in the face with a ball and the baby might cry (it’s happened), but simple conversation would suck as a movie.

Thus, my family in and of themselves are not funny, but if you put them in a high stress, high maintenance weekend where they undergo a series of wedding-related events (set-up, rehearsal, the ceremony, dinner, dancing, and let’s even throw in a barbeque for good measure) with a deadly cocktail of people they barely know, and you have the most amazing situational comedy the world has ever seen. So why haven’t I tried to write this yet? Because no matter what insane shit my comedic imagination could come up with, the real deal would be so much better. It would be the perfect comedy: Ridiculous, but Real.

Thus, if I ever get married, I will have a wedding somewhere rather rustic and small. Thus creating a boiling kettle-like situation in which all my family and my funniest friends and my future in-laws (whom no one will be introduced to ahead of time, to encourage a proper comedy of errors) are stuck together with tensions running high. I will not hire any outside help, but rather delegate duties to my nearest and dearest for set-up and execution of my extremely detailed plans. Really, I’m sure I won’t give a shit what anything looks like, but it will be funny as hell watching them all stress to make everything just so for fear that I will cry if it is not. And I will randomly toss wrenches here and there. I will randomly go missing for an hour just before the rehearsal. I will unleash a live squirrel in the reception hall just after everything is set up. I will slip my mom a few extra Vicodin just before the ceremony. I will blast all kinds of eighties post-punk the whole time. It will be glorious.