My Cousin's Big Fat Mormon Wedding -- or Is It My Big Fat Cousin's Mormon Wedding?

OK, so this is a slight exaggeration of what the guests at the reception will see-- for one thing, the cake is much more professionally done in the picture than the real one will be -- but it's close enough for readers to  get the gist.

My cousin is getting married next month.  My parents received an invitation to the wedding and reception. Despite the printed invitation, they cannot attend the wedding ceremony  because they are not holders of temple recommends, and the wedding will be held in the Draper, Utah Temple. They will go to the reception and eat peanuts and little mints and maybe a bit of wedding cake with punch. LDS receptions in my family are high-budget affairs [sarcasm font]. Seriously, if that's all the couple can afford, it makes more sense to do it that way than to incur any debt over a wedding. I would like to think that the parents of the bride and groom could have scraped together a few pennies -- hell, maybe they even could have bonded over  a "collect aluminum cans day"  -- for a very slightly higher-scale affair, but my cousin's father is the legendary Uncle Mahonri -- pilferer, plunderer, prowler, purloiner, whatever one might wish to call him as long as it means thief -- of goods and commodities from the homes of every relation on the planet. 

As far as the groom's family's financial situation goes, I haven't the faintest idea as to where they fall in the grand scheme of all things pecuniary. They could be living on skid row, or thy could be practically the Romneys. More likely, they fall somewhere in between, but figure that if the bride's family isn't coughing up anything of significance to provide a moderate wedding reception, why should they, although I can't help wondering if they'll be embarrassed to invite their friends to the debacle.  Then again maybe they and their friends fit right in with Mahonri's crowd. Furthermore, my cousin is a granddaughter of a high-ranking authority in the LDS church. That alone will give a person or family a bit of a pass in terms of the gossip or ridicule that otherwise might ensue. Perhaps this is the way the church is recommending that things be done now.

Mahonri probably should've directed his theft toward the purpose of supplying foods, paper products, and everything else he would need for his daughter's wedding reception about six months ago every time he visited one of our homes. Then again, perhaps he did. The mints and peanuts the guests  may be eating in a couple of weeks may very well have not come have come from Ridley's Family Market or WinCo but, rather, from my Uncle Michael's pantry.  The punch may have been a direct raid on my Uncle Steve's children's KoolAid supply for the summer. My parents may have provided the sugar.  I'm not sure who in the family stockpiles cake mixes and frostings, but with Mormons and their two-year food supply custom, surely someone among us does.

Someone still has to bake the cake and make it vaguely resemble a wedding cake, and neither Mahonri, Marthalene (the bride's mother ), nor Celeste (the bride) is capable  of making a cupcake that either looks or tastes like a cupcake, much less a wedding cake that does the same. My Aunt Celine is probably the least  sub-par of the bakers among that faction (if my use of the word faction to describe a portion of our family sounds as if we're a family at war, such is not far from the truth ) of the family, so she'll probably be roped into the task of making the wedding cake. 

If Celeste were just a bit nicer to those of use who live in California, my Aunt Joanne (wife of Uncle Michael, and therefore aunt-by-marriage to the bride) is highly adept at baking and decorating wedding cakes and probably would have offered her services.  It was a skill she mastered in high school, and she relied heavily on it to finance her way through medical school. She still bakes and decorates wedding cakes for special people in her life, of whom I hope someday to be one. Her cakes look like the ones you might see on the cake competitions on the Food Networks (the real wedding cakes -- not the ones where the competitors are supposed to incorporate Tom Sawyer Island or the Pirates of the Caribbean themes into their  cakes) or at Charm City Cakes or on the Cake Boss. She's an artist. On the other hand, she earns whatever it is medical specialists earn in a single day. Why should she forfeit that pay to drive or fly to Utah and bake a fantastic cake for someone who A) wouldn't appreciate it; and B) probably already helped herself [via her father] to all the peanuts and little pastel mints in Aunt Joanne's pantry to feed to her wedding reception guests?

The reception will be held at Celeste's family's local LDS chapel. Mahonri will steal flowers from unsuspecting neighbors' gardens to hang in and around the basketball hoops in an utterly futile attempt to disguise the hoops.(It's actually only the flowers that are disguised.) That's a hallmark of a Mormon wedding reception held at the ward meetinghouse: what innovative way will someone come up with to attempt to disguise the ever-present basketball hoops?  The best one I ever saw was a non-disguise. Halfway through the reception, planned or not, tables were pushed out of the way, and the groom and his buddies, and even a few bridesmaids,  picked up a basketball and started a full-court game right in the middle of the reception. It was a classic.  The bride stood on the sidelines cheering on her new husband.

Oddly, I saw the same thing at an LDS funeral once as well, if you can believe it. Mourners left the chapel and entered the "cultural hall" (more typically referred to in churches as a social hall, but that's a very minor distinction) to have a light lunch of foods prepared by the  members of the Relief Society, the LDS church's women's organization.  Tables were at one end of the cultural hall. The deceased woman's thirteen -year-old son saw a basketball sitting idly (remember Newton's theory about objects at rest tending to remain that way) and chose to put the object in question -- the basketball -- in motion.  At first the mother of the deceased was taken aback, but before she could raise an audible objection, players had chosen up sides and a half-court game was in progress.   The basketball game was fitting in the particular case,  as the deceased had been a college physical education instructor and had coached teams in numerous sports, including basketball. She would have approved, and I suspect, wherever she was, she considered it a proper send-off. I didn't participate in the game, but my father and brother both did.

Mahonri wouldn't have a basketball game at his daughter's wedding reception if for no other reason than that basketballs are more difficult to conceal when stealing -- he has a belly on him, but not that big of one -- and he does have his probation to consider.  While he might have gotten his jollies from the risk of ripping off some twelve-year-old's basketball, the logistics would have been tougher to pull together.  Just whose basketball would he steal, anyway,  and how could he know it would be where he thought it would be at the time he planned to steal it?   Flowers, on the other hand, don't walk or roll away, nor are they stored away in the rooms of adolescent boys. If  Mahonri had thought of it in December, he might have given his son a basketball as a Christmas present, which then could have been use as a decoration and activity at his daughter's wedding reception, but even then, he probably would have needed to surreptitiously "borrow  it to obtain it in the first place, which would have set the whole logistical chain in motion again.  Furthermore, Celeste had no plans to marry way back in December. She met her fiancé in June, he proposed in July, and the wedding will take place in August. It's hard to plan a wedding with "borrowed" goods on such short notice. Mahonri has done well to acquire the supplies he already has.

Ironically, if Mahonri  just asked nicely, the flowers would probably be given to him freely even though his neighbor's probably think he's a horse's butt,, but my suspicion is that Mahonri gets a thrill out of getting up before the sun is up and of sneaking into the yards of others to help himself to what is not rightfully his. He does need to be at least a little bit careful, as I'm not sure he's free and clear where his probation is concerned  from the charges stemming from his theft  ("borrowing"?) of a carton of disposable douches from the loading zone of a local big box store, but that probably only adds to the thrill for him. If the neighbors attend the reception, I wonder if they'll recognize their own flowers from their gardens.

What would be hysterical beyond belief would be if all the neighbors within a mile radius or so of Mahonri's house cut all their flowers from their yards before they went to bed the night before Celeste's wedding and reception. When Mahonri awoke, donned his dark clothing, and went out with plastic garbage bags and shears and found nothing left to cut, he might possibly lose bladder control. A man with Mahonri's history of theft is  not a man thoroughly absent of wiles, though, and it would eventually occur to him to drive to a neighboring community and obtain the flowers from the homes of the saints living there.  Dawn would be growing closer, which would increase his chances of being caught in the act, but it might only add to the thrill for Mahonri.

As to my attendance at the wedding reception, it won't happen. I was not invited. The outer envelope listed my parent's names. The inner envelope listed very specifically, "Brother and Sister Rousseau and Matthew."  I was in my Aunt Marthalene's handwriting, so they cannot blame the omission on  a clueless member of the groom's family. Aunt Marthalene knows perfectly well that my parents have two children. It was a most deliberate omission, and, I might add, a most unnecessary omission. The aunt and uncle who left me in the smoke-filled house, then blamed me because child welfare services took its time in conducting its final investigation and returning their two youngest children to the family, will be present at the wedding.  There were more details in the negligent care I was given while under their supervision than I have chosen to share here. What I have just relayed scarcely scratches the surface of the horror  I suffered at their hands.  After a single court proceeding at which I appeared where they were present,  I told my parents that I never wish to see them again. My parents said that, to the best of their control of the situation, my wish will be honored. The family I wish not to see will be in attendance at the wedding and/or reception (children and  teens who have not been through the temple endowment ceremony aren't allowed to attend the temple ceremony even if they come from 'worthy" families).  Even if I were the guest of honor, therefore, I would decline the invitation.

My cousin was stupid not to have invited me. She just turned nineteen, has few college credits and fewer job skills. Her husband's college credits and job skills are even more lacking than hers. Despite my disinclination to attend, I would have sent a one-hundred dollar check independent of whatever my parents gave. Many (not all; I can't imagine the Coveys being cheapskates when it comes to wedding gifts) LDS church members are notoriously parsimonious (it was the kindest descriptor my brain could conjure at this late hour) when it comes to offering wedding gifts. Gift registries for weddings are a joke in most Mormon communities. One is more likely to receive a white elephant gift at a Mormon wedding reception than receive anything on his or her gift registry.  Baby shower gifts are a bit less penurious by nature if only because some of the givers are highly skilled at sewing, quilting, crocheting, knitting, and such, and share those talents in making baby gifts, but, for whatever reason, wedding gifts rarely receive the same attention or generosity. The one-hundred dollar check I would have sent with my parents, not because I'm fond of the cousin but because I know she and her future husband  need every penny of it and more, would have been one of a very few and will be missed even though the couple will never know they're missing it.  Matthew, though he was invited, will not attend. He doesn't find the same dark humor in such situations as I do, and he considers his time too valuable to waste on such a non-event. He will not send a gift separate from that my parents will give. He doesn't have the cash to spare, and if he did, giving it to the bridal couple is not the manner in which he would choose to spare it. He made a comment to my parents about his decline of the invitation to be an act of solidarity on my behalf.  I'm a bit skeptical of his claim, but I liked hearing it, just the same.

So my parents will attend the reception but not the wedding they've been deemed unworthy to attend because they drink a little coffee on occasional winter mornings,  consume alcohol (a little in my mom's case and a fair amount in my dad's),  and attend services at a church that is not The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Those acts make them unworthy to enter the Temple of the Lord. Meanwhile, the bride's father has been convicted of grand theft,  (the size of the carton of disposable douches upped the charge from petty to grand theft [that must have been one humongous-sized crate of disposable douches]) but the church found a way to rationalize his actions. Even though he continues to pocket things that do not belong to him right and left, Mahonri, father of the bride, is worthy to enter the Temple of the Lord and participate in the holy ordinances that will lead to his daughter's sealing for time and all eternity to a man who looks like Mr. Potato Head with an Osmond's teeth. If a church can justify that, it unnerves me to think of the many other acts it must justify on a regular basis.

The Sacred and Profane (or The Sacred and The Sense of Humor)

Are there things too sacred about which to make jokes? Ask a Muslim that, and your answer will surely be "yes."  Make a joke about what is most sacred to those who practice Islam (I'm not  mentioning it because I don't want a bounty on my head if anyone ever actually figures out who I am) and you'll find out just how lacking in humor are members of their faith when it comes to what they consider holy. Those who practice Islam aren't overly blessed with the gift of humor when it comes to their faith.

Ask a Mormon the same question as to the existence of topics too sacred to be discussed with any hint of humor. Again, the answer will be yes.  I can go along with this to a degree.  I know what goes on during LDS temple endowment ceremonies, as well as what occurred within them pre-1991, or whenever the most recent big change was. I don't write about those things, either seriously or in jest. I may make the odd joke about the magic underwear, but that's about as far as it goes. And as far as that goes, if a church goes so far as to dictate to its upper-echelon (temple-endowed) members   what kind of underwear they must wear, that church should be prepared for at least a little mirth at their own expense. Laugh it off or let it roll right off one's back.

Special undergarments  notwithstanding, other than writing of my experience at being baptized for the dead in a Mormon temple, I generally don't joke about temples all that much.  I will say in seriousness that holding weddings in places where not all close family members, including even a bride's or groom's parents in some cases, are allowed to attend, is contradictory to the ideology of any church which professes that family comes first. I'm not saying that for the sake of humor, though.  I'm dead serious.

Some readers (or one reader posing as some readers) came across a blog from many months ago in which I made references to Mormons who drink coffee, Mormons who practically worship Mitt Romney (this was before the election; Mitt has lost even most of his Latter-day Saint flock by now), and stake presidents,   and took umbrage  in a not particularly articulate manner at all that I had to say. I was bored so I responded. It was a waste of computer life span, health of my wrists (pianists and those who type excessively are at risk for carpal tunnel syndrome), and perhaps even of  function of my brain, as one's brain is only going to think so many thoughts before it decides it has had enough and ceases to function. My dad says there is no scientific basis to support my "maximum brain function" hypothesis, but he's an oncologist and hematologist. What makes him think he knows any more about brains than does the next person?

Anyway, what is truly too sacred to be the subject or object of humor?  The answer  varies from one person to the next. As much of a cafeteria-variety Catholic as I am (pick and choose what aspects of the faith you want to follow just as you pick your entree and side dishes), I can't find anything about Jesus' final week as a half-mortal remotely amusing. (I wouldn't put anyone else on a death list for disagreeing and creating a cartoon about the crucifixion, although I probably wouldn't choose to be that person's friend.)  Anyone's death is something about which I'm not comfortable making jokes, whether because of the sanctity of death or merely out  of respect to the survivors or the deceased himself or herself.  I  don't find the suffering of very many people to be particularly amusing anyway, but the lack of humor factor rises exponentially when it's the suffering of a child or an animal involved.  I can't watch either St. Jude's Hospital commercials or those Sarah McLachlan SPCA ads or Humane Society ads or whatever they are. My inability to watch them is probably because I'm squeamish, but the subject matter itself really bothers me. Is that because it is sacred, though? Maybe it is. Perhaps we have a sacred obligation as a society to protect animals and children to the very best of our ability. Or perhaps I just have PMS and had to click off one too many Sarah McLachlan or st. Jude's Hospital commercials tonight.

I think it runs in the family. My mom has the same tendency. I remember once when I was about ten. It was December and  she was driving us to practice for a Christmas program, and the radio station was playing Christmas stuff.  The Littlest Angel , which isn't even a song, was read dramatically by someone like William Shatner over a musical background. My mother got all weepy, and she had to drive around the block about sixteen times until she could get her emotions under control. We were about five minutes late, and there were people outside the church auditorium standing in the fog, waiting for her to unlock the door to the auditorium.

My brother has the same tendency, though, and he can't even blame PMS, or if he can, he has problems far beyond anything I can hope to cover in this blog or anywhere else. Anyway, once during the end of one of those Cerebral Palsy or Muscular Dystrophy telethons, he got really caught up in the moment and called the number on the screen and pledged one thousand dollars. He got his name announced on TV, which is how my mom found out about it. You'd think the volunteers answering the phones on those telethons would be trained to recognize a young child's voice-- I think Matthew was five -- and ask to speak to an adult before processing the donation. Those pledges aren't legally binding, or certainly not when made by a five-year-old. My parents wrote out a one-hundred-dollar check and called it even.  The telethon people would have liked more, but they were lucky to get the hundred bucks.

It seems perfectly appropriate for anyone to take his or her religion seriously at least to some degree (in this regard as in many other, my dad is inappropriate). It is probably reasonable to expect others to refrain from desecrating the things you consider most holy if they know that you consider those things as such.   On the other hand,  if the things you consider holy beyond desecration are undergarments, drinking or not drinking coffee, Mitt Romney and his entire family, or even the protection of the family (!!!)  and the sanctity of marriage, it might be a bit of a stretch to assume that everyone who posts or blogs on the Internet knows your feelings and will avoid these topics as though they're the ebola virus.

The Internet contains a wealth of views on virtually any topic one could imagine.  Pick any topic. If youcan't think of one, grab a magazine and randomly open it to a page. Google, it, Bing it, ask Jeeves about it , MSNsearch it, or  check it out on the Internet in whatever way suits your fancy. If  the topic is gravity, there may not be too much disagreement or controversy. On almost any other topic, probably one will find controversy and divergent viewpoints. The comments after the main entry are often where the greatest controversy can be found , but even the main body of the article may be controversial or even offensive from your viewpoint. If your purpose for searching is to learn more about something or if, in searching blogs,  perhaps wishing to learn about others' viewpoints, it might be fruiful to read what the author has to say. If, on the other hand, one wishes to find facts and beliefs that support one's already existing belief system and one might be offended by anything to the contrary,  one might do well  to quickly scan the article, or at least the opening and closing paragraphs, to see if what has been written is something that will annoy, offend, incense, or otherwise ruin one's day. If such is the case,  it would behoove one to bypass the article.

If, on the other hand, one derives pleasure from reading blogs or other posts at message boards and looking for places to disagree with a poster or blogger, criticize the person not just for his or her writings and point of view  but for his intelligence, character, usefulness as a human being, and general right to occupy space on the planet, by all means use the various search engines available on the Internet  for such purposes. Find blogs or posts with which to disagree, using the most vitriolic non-expletive words of which you can think. (It's not wrong in the eyes of God to call someone a worthless piece of poop as long as you say poop rather than shit. It's all in the technicalities. Jesus doesn't really care what's in your heart. It's the little things -- like not wearing a cross around one's neck or ,heaven forbid, getting more than one piercing in your ear, that will make a difference in the end.

Don't just stick to your feelings regarding what was written in a person's blog wen criticizing in response. Read between the lines. It's probably The Spirit telling you what to write and just how to insult the person. Call the writer an idiot. It will let him or her know the truthfulness of the gospel if you speak to him or her in such a way. Tell the person he or she does not know what he or she is talking about. It isn't remotely possible that the person may know more about the topic of discussion than you do.

This is the Internet. You can say or do anything, or claim to be anyone with  The Spirit on your side. Tell the original author that you cannot understand why everyone who knows him or her does not hate his or her guts. He or she needs to hear this. Choose the right! This is righteous indignation, just like when Jesus threw the money changers out of the temple.  Tell the writer that no one cares what he or she thinks.  It doesn't matter that you have no way of knowing how many people care about what he or she thinks, that you have no idea how many people like or love the person, or what the person's actual intellectual capacity is.
Afterwards, if you feel that you may have erred in judgement ever so slightly, apologize for maybe just one of the many  things you said, but try not to sound too sincere, and let the blogger know you were angry and you had every right to be. (Don't forget about the temple and the money changers and righteous indignation.)

Then when you go to church or Young Women's meetings, or to Sunday School, speak about the iniquity of bullying (except when doing so in defense of the church; then it's ok) or the importance of being a shining example of righteousness to non-members. No one knows what you wrote on the Internet.

Consider that on the outside chance, the person to whom you are writing was in a shaky emotional state when he or she wrote what he did. Consider that your responses sent him or her over the edge, and perhaps he or she downed an entier bottle of tylenol, then drove, thirty miles to a dry lke bed that isn't often visted until water is released into it in the summer. Perhaps the writer stayed there so nonone would fine him or her until the writer died of liver failure. First of all, the person was breaking the word of wisdom, so he or she was not a very worthy person. second, everyone knows suicide is a serious sin, and the person will probably spend eternity  in outer darkness. How could this be your fault? Were you supposed to read the entire Doctrine and Covenants to this idiot just to make sure you hit section 89. And one person can't be responsible for another's harmikng himself or herself. you are NOT your brother's or sister's keeper.

The outside chance didn't happen, of course. The blogger is alive, well, and acetaminophen free, and plans to remain that way for a long time,  But how could you have known?

Congratulations in choosing the right and in being one of Zion's youth in Latter Days, triumphant, pure, and strong.