Yesterday at 5 p.m. was Lindsay and Tom's wedding. I hope they're happy and that she isn't pregnant. They need some time together to see if this relationship will work. Both families love them dearly, but the feeling was widespread on both sides that it's going to take a lot of hard work for them to make it last. Lindsay has wanted him and he has been reluctant for 9 years. But she finally got what she wanted.

The day started off badly. Family members were referring to "bridezilla" and "momkong" but by the time the wedding was over and the reception well underway and freely lubricated by an open bar, tempers had smoothed out and smiles had returned.

Like all brides, Lindsay was blooming and beautiful in her own way. It's been a while since I've seen her all dressed up and with her hair pulled up and back; her long nose and sharply pointed chin were prominent. You know the visual trick where the young woman turns into an old hag and back again? Lindsay's profile is the old hag, the traditional witch. I don't know where she gets it since my other nieces, nephew, and her father and mother have nice regular noses. Aiden is a beauty, in fact, and just as smart.

Anyway, you don't care about all that. The wedding was on a golf course (18th hole) with the wedding party and guests making the rough rougher and rougher and the golfers with their bags, on foot and in golf carts, wandering by.

The gazebo was rented, somewhat shopworn. The chairs were uncomfortable and hot, with the wedding venue in direct sun the entire time. However, the temperature had cooled down to the 90's by 5 o'clock, so I guess that was OK. Tom and Lindsay had gone to check the shadiness of the spot back in May when they made the arrangements, but as non-science types had not stopped to think that the shade arrangement and spread would be different 3 months later. There will be several young ladies with sunburns today.

Speaking of young ladies, there was an astonishing variety of wedding wear yesterday to what was a pretty traditional wedding. Only old fogies like me were dressed in what would traditionally have been called afternoon garden party clothes, suitable for an outdoor wedding on a golf course.

And one of the "maids" of honor was pregnant and had to leave her dress unzipped in order to fit into it. I wonder how she managed to keep it up, bouncing breasts and all. Poor woman must have been mortified--she wasn't pregnant when the dresses were ordered.

The reception was indoors, thank Heaven, at a nice restaurant up in the hills. We begged them to lower the temperature of the airconditioning, since we were all dressed to the nines and formal clothing is notoriously hot and uncomfortable. The restaurant tried to accommodate us at first, but then the manager came and told us that the patrons in the rest of the establishment were complaining that they were too cold. I figured the temperature would be an issue (Los Angeles in late July) and wore the coolest clothes I could find that were appropriate for a wedding, but the men in their formal monkey suits suffered.

The audio system was too loud. Everything the dj said was distorted and the noise (aka music) was painful. I never thought I'd need earplugs for a wedding!

Near the end of the formal dancing was something called a "money dance." I had never heard of it before, and I think's it's in poor taste. The men pay the bride for a dance with her. Lindsay had a silken bag over her wrist and the men put money into it and then danced with her. Tacky.

I'm told, however, that it's a common custom. Common where, I wonder. Or common as in vulgar and low class? Sometimes I'm told the bride tucks the bills into her bodice.

Anyway, after 6 hours on uncomfortable chairs (just auditorium chairs covered in cloth and decorated with a bow) and too-loud music, tummy assuaged by good food (the vegetables were crunchy al dente and the meat was tender) albeit bland in flavor, we paid our respects to my brother-in-law, sister-in-law and Lindsay and left. I didn't see Tom--I suspect he was out on the balcony with his fraternity brothers for a bit of fresh air.

All this, so that she can keep a leash on him and the children will be legitimate, whatever that means. They are already living together and both work. Seems like a waste of money to me. If you're committed to each other, that's all that counts. I'd like to see a 5-year contract, renewable if both parties agree. It would keep you talking and upgrading your relationship, keep you from taking each other for granted and prevent that feeling that you're trapped forever. But I'm marching to my own drummer in this opinion, I know.