ZULULAND LETTER: My shameful Christmas memories
Until the man of the cloth realises that except for blaming El Nino outright on Satan, there’s absolutely nothing more he can say about the weather
EVER wondered what type of man leaves a young bride standing in front of the altar, waiting…?
Until the man of the cloth realises that except for blaming El Nino outright on Satan, there’s absolutely nothing more he can say about the weather.
Until the discreet whispers turn into outright threats of murder inside the house of God.
Until the caterer at the reception venue goes into a wild panic, thinking she’s got the date wrong.
Until the flowers start to wilt…
What type of bastard does that?
Well, stop wondering – I’m that guy.
The ceremony was scheduled for the Saturday before Christmas, and that’s why at this time of the year I always remember that fateful day.
Why did I miss my own wedding?
I was fishing.
No, I wasn’t hooked in a three-day battle with a 2 000kg blue marlin, like Hemmingway’s Old Man and the Sea, and neither did the sardine run reach Richards Bay for the first time in history.
Both would have been perfectly valid excuses for my scandalous absence, but truth be told, I was just killing time because I didn’t want to get married.
After I was certain that those who threatened to kill me – mostly from her side of the family – were gone, I went home.
That was three days later.
Clocking Uncle Elmo
Dad, the quiet man he was, didn’t say much about it, except that Uncle Elmo got clocked by her father.
Always being the clown, he tried to divert attention from the elephant in the house by pulling the pockets out of his trousers in front of the church and asking, ‘Who wants to see Jumbo’s trunk?’.
For his poorly timed attempt at comic relief, Uncle Elmo received three stitches on his lower lip.
I never got to thank him for what he did, Uncle Elmo that is.
He passed on years ago.
He had a stroke on the job inside the Pink Panther, a brothel on Point Road.
He was a plumber.
That was also just before Christmas coincidentally, and another sad time for our family.
Dad said his last words apparently were ‘Ho-ho-ho!’.
You’d be surprised at how long wedding cake lasts, because the next year on Christmas day I ate some for breakfast with my coffee and it was still okay.
To everybody who wasn’t okay on the day I missed my wedding, I just want to say, I’m sorry, and Merry Christmas and… ho-ho-ho… I guess.
