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Published June 26, 2007 12:06 am - So I got in trouble at a wedding. Not mine. Heck, I was in trouble long before my wedding. As weddings go, mine was pretty stress-free. My wife and I got married on a sailboat in Key West, Fla. I suggested Key West because I figured people would be so impressed that my wife and I got married that they would all want to buy us drinks. Mike Pound: Rock, Paper, Scissors not a wedding game By Mike Pound
Globe columnist So I got in trouble at a wedding. Not mine. Heck, I was in trouble long before my wedding. As weddings go, mine was pretty stress-free. My wife and I got married on a sailboat in Key West, Fla. I suggested Key West because I figured people would be so impressed that my wife and I got married that they would all want to buy us drinks. That’s right. I got married on the promise of free alcohol. Unfortunately, as I found out, a lot of people get married in Key West. So many people, in fact, that people in Key West expect you to buy them drinks for letting you getting married there. No, the wedding at which I got in trouble was Saturday in Joplin. And I wasn’t the only person who got in trouble. My 9-year-old daughter, Emma, got in trouble too. What we were doing was playing Rock, Paper, Scissors. Sure, I guess I’m to blame because I started the game, but I really didn’t have to twist Emma’s arm to get her to join in. My wife, being a woman and all, figured that a wedding was the wrong place for people to be playing Rock, Paper, Scissors. See, women love weddings. They always gush about how beautiful the bride looks (and the bride Saturday truly was lovely). They gush about the wedding dress. They gush about the flowers. And they gush about the music. Women gush a lot at weddings, is what I’m saying. Men, by nature, aren’t gushers. And if they were going to gush, I’m guessing it wouldn’t be at a wedding. I’m thinking that if a man were going to gush, it would be at a tractor pull. Earl: Wow, Merle, that John Deere sure knows how to make ’em. Merle: Are you gushing, Earl? Earl: I reckon I am. Merle: I think I’m supposed to slug you now. 
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