Among the many items on the long list of things I am not is “wedding planner.” Yet today, the receptionist fielded a call from someone—not, mind you, an alum or student of the Law School—who wanted to speak with me to get a little help with planning a wedding. She was hoping to hold it in the Law Quad, and she had heard I could be useful with that.
This inquiry revealed two things: one, that the inquirer really didn’t know me at all, and two, that she had some amazing Google skills. It is true that I did once perform a wedding ceremony between two Law School grads:
(And while the online credentials I obtained to perform this feat are of dubious validity, the couple later had a much more real wedding, so I don’t have to worry about future Jarndyce v. Jarndyce-style repercussions.) But my diligent (read: 30 seconds) searching subsequent to this morning’s phone call unearthed only one tiny reference to it anywhere.
For context on my claim of why I am the really wrong person to ask, it is helpful to bear in mind that my own wedding was so lackadaisically “planned” that I remember being struck with panic about three weeks in advance, realizing that I had no idea what to wear. Since this occurred pre-Interwebs, the last-minute timing was a bit of a problem. Happily, Federal Express did exist at the time, so everything worked out anyway, and I wore neither jeans nor a business suit to my wedding.
So asking me to help plan your wedding is a bit like asking me to help plan your football game. I am shockingly inadequate to the task. But the idea that I have a job where strangers might think that one little facet of it involves wedding planning nonetheless makes me smile.