A few evenings ago I was totally sucked in by a TV program on weddings. We were taken for a long ride through all the various aspects of ‘wedding planning’. Who would have thought, even remotely, how simple weddings could turn into those outrageous levels of commercial exploitations as shown during the evening. I was astonished to hear that in America (where else?) the 2 to 3 million costing wedding is accepted now, and indeed something that we should all aspire to. Alas, here in Australia, one of the wedding consultants lamented, we are still stuck on the $ 200.000,- to $300.000.-wedding.’’We are getting there, it just takes more time’, she enthused.

The best part were the wedding preparation workshops called ‘seminars’ and run by a savvy looking bloke, competing against a young ambitious woman. Both were expert wedding consultants. Towards the end of the program, all the consultants confessed that none were interested in marriage. Perhaps they were also running a lucrative private post marriage counselling service as well!

The sums just in running the seminars were phenomenal, held in prestigious Melbourne exhibition palaces. Rows and rows of white stretch limousines, endless groaning racks of bridal gowns, table settings, acres of seductive lingerie. At one stage future brides, as a special promotion, were seen to dig into a huge wedding cake that had a $ 4000.- ring hidden inside. All this part of an exhaustive programme with the throngs of thousands future brides queuing and paying up big already just for the tickets and the ‘grooming up’ by consultants for spending fortunes for the ‘big day’, not far off. Bridal faces were flushed with regal expectations and future grooms were fixated on the tables exhibiting shapely plaster torsos and busts encased and eclipsed with frilly minimum lingerie and intimate apparel with pale pink satin lace stitched around the edges. I had to suppress a strong desire to compare lambs to the slaughter analogy and took a biscuit break.

‘ The attention to detail is what we specialise in’, the daughter and mother marriage specialists uttered during the evening. Indeed, there was a bit of a problem with the butter being served inside the foil wrappings that could possibly be seen as lowering the standards a little. Cool as a cucumber and with an expert hawk eye cast over the wedding participants, the mother specialist consultant, cheque in handbag, herded the entourage, couple by couple and equally spaced apart inside the church. The lovely and obligatory Bach’s ‘Ave Maria’ was carefully being played by real players with cellos, violins and singers. I almost expected the arrival of castrati to have flown in from Italy, just for the occasion. The weddings were grand affairs.

Someone mentioned, somewhat desultory, ’ it is the marriage that counts, not the wedding’. Far out!

Lying awake, tossing and turning, reflecting on the last remark by this cynic I wondered late at night about the prospect of starting a business on ‘reality- wedding seminars’. Perhaps consultants of wiry age and experience, matrons of multiple divorces and inequitable property settlements, those hardy souls having survived it all, could be engaged in running them. Hire a large hall, fill it with rows and rows of washing machines, the latest in ironing hardware, babies screams amplified a hundred times and DVD’s on large screens showing close ups of projectile vomiting. The soiled nappy essence wafting through aerators and sprayed on dainty bridal wrists. Cane laundry baskets and competitions of underwear finding their way inside without prompting from anyone. Tired simulated love making after a bout of horrific credit card bills screaming for attention on the bedside table. Those details can all be worked out. It might have to involve a couple of days in the toolshed, tinkering with routers and small sledge-hammers.

For those not so well off; pre-marriage ‘reality wedding workshopping’ could be done by trips to supermarkets. The visit to the dairy section divisions with special attention to the patience of the male groom participant when a choice of margarine or cheese has to be made by the future wife. Foster a deeper understanding of the subtle differences between Persil or Omo washing powder. How will the couple cope with the men choosing the ‘home brand’ but the future wives ‘a haughty, no way ever’, only the best for me, you Dutch uncle skinflint..?.. This is the stuff of future marital battles and possible divorces.

It is all very well at those ‘other seminars’ for the groom to lust, linger, and even finger the lingerie, but how well will he take to a resounding ‘NO’, coupled with a midriff elbow or a kick in the groin? The couple need to take special care with the NO issue and the male participant perhaps to compensate for the NO and take on extra lessons in ironing, showing what a real iron-man is made of. For a small extra fee, a tour and Q&A’s discussion with celibacy practising religious orders would be strongly advised.

For a fraction of the cost, slowly but surely, conversation topics could be touched upon. Simulated continuing discussions by men with future partners lasting at least for ten minutes in one hit might be envisaged.

And now last but not least. During the finals of whatever, cricket, football, rugby, even Olympics, the male has to practise switching off the plasma or small screen. (does it matter?) in mid stream. Watch facial expressions of male participants. Any expletives, a clear sign of storm ahead. How will he take to having to sooth baby, clean the cat vomit, missing out on his favourite sport?

Weddings and divorces. They cause massive GLOBAL WARMING.