Sun 28th August - the Wedding

The wedding party (L-R): the father of the groom, Ali (chief bridesmaid), the mother of the groom, Bob, Bec, the mother & father of the bride.

Bec & Bob were married at St Ninian's Church on Sunday 28th August...

*****

Hmmm. Actually, before I talk about the wedding (the main reason I've come to Glasgow, and by extrapolation the rationale behind this whole overseas trip) I should talk a little about the people whose wedding it is, and whose loungeroom I'm staying in!

Bec Carey (now officially Rebecca Carey-Grieve) was my co-CEO and Express Media's general manager. We worked together for four years and formed a long - and I hope lasting - friendship as well as being a great team for that small and special youth arts organisation. Bec is petite, likes the colour red, and is a digital artist/animator.

Bob Grieve (Robert Carey-Grieve) is a visual artist and a founding member of Henry VIII's Wives, a Glaswegian artists' collective who are now scattered all over the world. He's also a deputy manager at the excellent NICENSLEAZY (see previous post), and is possessed of a generous heart and a great sense of humour.

Bec and Bob met in 1996, when Bec was temporarily living in Glasgow and working at The Blob Shop, a now-closed pub just down the road from Sleazy's where Bob liked to drink. He wooed and pursued her for literally years until she finally saw sense.

Background over: on with the story...

*****

Bec and Bob were married at St Ninian's Church, which stands on the corner of Albert Drive & Pollokshaws Road, Glasgow, at 3pm on Sunday afternoon. It was a beaut wedding, despite the weather, which was drizzling and overcast; as someone else has said of the day, 'it was sunny inside the church'.

Bob and his best man Henry looked resplendent in their kilts. I wore one too: an unusual experience I must say, but one I enjoyed immensely. I found that I wore it with a swagger, imperative to setting the pleats a-swinging. And yes, I wore underwear beneath it. I didn't come halfway around the world to flash my goolies at the bride and groom's families and friends! There should be a photo of me in my Black Watch tartan (the unoffocial protest tartan for those who oppose the invasion of Iraq) coming soon to this site - stay tuned!

A paniced moment just as the groom was leaving: his mini had probken down, and Bob, his best man Henry, and myself (all in our kilts) had to push start the damn thing down the street. Comical sight, and appropriate on a wedding day that the groom's car breaks down: thank god it wasn't a Rolls Royce!

Church services often make me a little uncomfortable, but this one had such a strong sense of the bride and groom's personalities to it that I forgot all of my usual reservations. Bec being 20 minutes late due to traffic didn't help with my nerves though!

I'd been asked to do the second reading at the wedding, and was given a brief of looking for a poem or song that wasn't religious and which summarised something about the couple and their history, lives and love: maybe Tom Waits or something...?

Bit of a tricky job but I'm happy to say that I came up with the goods, a song by a great little Melbourne band. This is what I read:

THE LUCKSMITHS
'Guess How Much I Love You'
From the album A Good Kind Of Nervous
(Candle Records)

Good Friday and I’m miles away
And missing you already
From a backyard in Balmain
To the post office and back again
I bought a postcard
I’m getting close
But I haven’t got around to it yet
I know I said I’d write
And maybe I might

You know I’m thinking of you
In the bookstore, in the laundromat
Guess how much I love you
Much more, more than that
More than that

Better Saturday
It’s been that way since I spoke to you this morning
From a pay-phone in a pub
Here’s the rock’n’roll and there’s the rub
And when I spoke to you
You said ‘I’ll see you soon’
But I won’t see you for ages
And your voice sounded so small
The loneliness of the long distance phone call

You know I’m thinking of you
In the bookstore, in the laundromat
Guess how much I love you
Much more, more than that
Guess how much I love you
More than that

Here’s me
Here’s you
Draw a line between the two
This is cartography for beginners
On a map the gap’s three fingers
But it’s more than that
It’s more than that

*****

After whiling a few hours at a nearby pub, a bunch of us shared taxis to the wedding reception at the Pollokshields Burgh Hall, 70 Glencarin Drive, Pollokshields: all stained glass windows and subdued grandeur.

A fantastic meal, excellent company, well-observed speeches and well received speeches (especially Bob's 'I'm Spartacus!' moment) and apart from a hissy-fit by the ceidhl band at the end of the night, who demand more money to play after midnight, it was a fantastic and fun reception.

The bride and groom departed to a hotel in their bright red mini, the rest of us stayed to help stack chairs, eat leftovers, and gossip about the day. Then home to bed, happily exhausted.