All I Wanted Was a Kilt

Is that such a horrible thing? Is it so wrong to have wanted to wear a kilt to my wedding? I'm part Scottish, don't ya know...








Let me flash back to the blessed day. No wait...I will have to go further back still. Let me go back to when we met. No wait...she didn't like me then. So we will have to speed up a bit then to November 25, 1993.

By this time in my life I knew a few of things for certain: 1) that it was my birthday and I had just turned 24; 2) that in a couple of weeks I would be off to the Missionary Training Center in Provo, UT to learn Spanish and prepare for missionay work; 3) I did not want a girlfriend while I was on my mission. Guys who pined over girlfriends were lonely losers and I didn't want to be one. Besides, the only girl that I really liked thought that I was annoying.

Only really cool people can laugh at their own jokes...

So there I was ready to embark on a great new adventure. I had one date to go on before I left, it was more of a friend thing than anything and I almost cancelled. I went because there was talk of lasagna...and I am a sucker for lasagna. While we ate the phone rang, another friend of ours was "sick." Partly out of worry for our friend, and mostly because dinner was over and I only wanted the same for the date, we offered to take her some food.

The "sick" turned out to be a surprise birthday party for me. Lots of people were there, some of which I actually knew, and one of them being the only girl that I was interested in at the time. That is the night that it all started...still, I did not want a girlfriend.

Now flash forward two and a half years: June 29, 1996. After writing that girl and pining for her for two years -- After I finished serving my mission and she had even come off of a mission of her own -- we had set the date for marriage. We would marry at the Denver Temple of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. She would wear white and I would wear a tux.

No, not a kilt, but a tux.

So that you all know: we did not fight bitterly over my attire. No, I would not celebrate my Scottish heritage by wearing the costume of my forefathers and eating haggis. I would stand and beam lovingly at my new wife, marvel at the beauty of her in her white lace wedding gown, and wonder how I got to be so lucky to get to marry Jen.

Maybe I will wear a kilt at our 50 year Anniversary. Happy 12th anniversary, baby!