I went to a friend's wedding Saturday, an event that was not completely unlike a funeral.

There was a preacher there with an assistant of some type. (Given the crowd, he might have been better off had he brought along a guardian angel). There were lots of people there standing around and talking to each other - some laughing, some hugging, some somber. There were women crying.

There was also a nervous feel to the air. I looked at the groom, who was wearing a smile and wandering about carelessly setting up the hay bales in the front of the chairs, where the arbor was. (The wedding had a western motif). The day before the wedding at the practice session, everything went without a hitch. Everyone was smiling. But the morning of the wedding, the bride lost her smile. She was running to and fro and trying to find this and fix that.

While others were hectically working to get the show on the road, the groom's buddies had all congregated in the garage to interact socially. Not necessarily a good idea, since the beverages for the reception were stored in large tubs with ice in said garage. I wonder what happened next?

Some members of the band for the reception, which was supposed to be provided for by a friend of the groom (who looks identical to me), had to cancel due to other obligations. As soon as I talked to the groom he asked me, "Where's the piano?" "What piano?" I asked.

As we both looked at each other with realization coming to our faces, we turned to the possibilities at hand - which happened to be my electric guitar. So, with little or no time left before the wedding, no one wanted to tell the bride. The groom was handling it well, until I explained I did not know the wedding march.

Furthermore, I told him, I had only been to a few weddings and would need someone to hum the tune for me. So the groom, with a look of foreboding on his face, and I, with guitar in hand, set out to learn that timeless classic. We had lots of help from the entourage of friends who were sneaking reception beverages prior to the wedding. Imagine if you can, a man preparing to get married in less than half an hour, humming out the tune to ?Here Comes the Bride? as a friend picks it out on his electric guitar. The result was somewhat entertaining, especially for the other congregates in the area. Meanwhile, several "professionals" decided to step up and offer their opinions of the progression.

"That sounds a little flat," one offered between sips of beer and a mouthful of some unidentified snack food. "I think it is in G," another offered, henceforth explaining that he had no knowledge of how to play the song or any instrument himself, but a "G" sure did sound right to him. Now, imagine the guitar player, having never played in a wedding before, asking when the march was supposed to begin. "Just wait until you see people walk by you," someone said.

Searching for a higher authority, a bridesmaid was sent to speak to the reverend something-or-the-other, who suggested that the song begin right now or even sooner. I suppose even his celestial patience was wearing thin by now, having been standing beneath a trellis for about 30 minutes awaiting the wedding march. His $50 fee was proving hard-earned cash. So said guitar player and friends roll a stage amplifier out beside the garage, which happens to be the entry point for the wedding, and set up to play something resembling a wedding march.

Of course, I was standing here in the sun with about as much clue of why I ended up doing this as I have of the mysteries of the cosmos, when the first bridesmaid walked by, kicking me in the leg.

I was imagining playing the entire thing without any semblance of tune or order and in the wrong key about the time the kick occurred. I jumped.

Thankfully, the slight kick and jump were enough to jump-start my hands and the wedding march proceeded smoothly, much to the surprise of everyone, including myself.

It could have been better, but it most certainly could have been worse. I even hit all the right notes in the right order. Then I realized I didn't know when to stop playing said wedding march. The bride and groom were both standing with the preacher and I was still playing away, until the groom gave me the slit throat signal about three times.

Afterwards, a few friends came in and a make-shift band was formed for the reception - a drummer from Florida, back up singers from everywhere and other sundry musicians joining the raucous sound. At least the reception music was good enough to dance to, which is more than I could say for the wedding march.

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