Photo: Bayfront Park, summer of 1984
By Earl Chinnici
It was horrifying. My best friend was about to marry an absolutely crazy man from South Florida. Had it been only the occasional yelling at nothing while waving his hand around in the air, I might have been able to overlook it. This man was so disturbed he murdered his imaginary friend then turned himself in. He once got caught trying to smuggle an ounce of marijuana onto a plane while wearing a shirt proclaiming “I have drugs.” He’s no longer allowed in a Publix supermarket after getting in trouble for dancing around in Superman underwear in their parking lot screaming “Lois! Have you seen my cape, Lois?”
Anyway, they made it all the way to “for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness…” when Blake Shelton’s “God Gave Me You” began blaring—seemingly out of nowhere and everywhere simultaneously. I thought “Okay, I can see playing this at a wedding; it’s a great song. But right in the middle of the vows? And why on Earth is it so loud?”
When I finally realized it was my alarm sounding off, I woke with a start and laughed until my cheeks hurt. I’m sure glad that went off without a hitch.