So our wedding is set for February 18th, in Nam’s hometown of Mahasarakham, Thailand. We will perform a traditional Thai wedding ceremony in the morning, to be followed by the reception at a nearby hotel in the evening. We are trying to arrange as much as possible by ourselves, because neither Marty Sheen nor Jenny Lopez are available to be my wedding planner, although they say they might drop by for the reception, if schedules permit.
The morning procession consists of me and my entourage (cuz ahma gaaaaangsta) walking in a procession from one end of town to our new house. This is all I know from my limited research on the subject. In my mind, this means being led by monks all a-flutter and playing what I can only imagine as being traditional Thai wedding music, which is nice but kind of not spicy enough for my tastes.
So I proposed some improvements to Nam, including, but not limited to: A procession of elephants joined snout-to-tail with me riding the one in front and wearing a turban and gold armbands and a big Bollywood moustache (syn: mustache). The elephant behind me will be mounted with speaker towers from which will be blasting tunes of my choosing controlled from the crossfader on my pachyderm mixing table. The elephant behind that will be hauling the amplifiers and generators (ah, scratch that I need another beast behind that one to separate the electronics from the power source), and the elephants behind that will be hauling beer coolers. Of course, all the elephant handlers have to be midgets.
To which my beloved bride exclaimed, “I can’t believe we’re married, you freak!”
So I know I’m on the right track…
Raising a family in Thailand // Documenting Issan food, culture, music, and people
As long as there are no clowns or mimes, you can do whatever the heck you want within reason. By “reason”, I mean, if Nam gives you a good reason why not to do something, you must try to obey and just be a good turtle boy, nodding your head, withdrawing your fearsome energy and saying “hai, hai”. Oh, and if you get to ride an elephant, may I have a pretty white horse all bejeweled in “1001 Arabian Nights” splendor? Or maybe a Cinderella-like coach with 4 white ponies prancing along, avoiding the massive cannonballs of pachyderm poop? What fun!
Did the monks say anything to you about needing a drummer to lay down the funky beats while they chant to the groove (daddy-o)?
I am contemplating hiring the Highland High School drum line for an exotic version of Wipeout.