Finally, Salmond gives a union his blessing
A NYONE who says getting married was the best day of their life has obviously never been around when a new café opens, and it gives away free bacon rolls.
Besides, I’ve been to some dreadful weddings, not least the one where the bride arranged that I sat next to the officiating minister in an attempt to pair us off, having already assured the reverend I was probably ‘up for it’.
Now there is a new deterrent – Alex Salmond may crash your big day. This happened to Stephanie and Richard Henderson when they were celebrating their wedding at Meldrum House in Aberdeenshire and the former First Minister popped up.
At first Richard had no idea who Salmond was (‘I’m really bad with names and faces’) and assumed he was part of his new wife’s family. A little later, the politician returned to the nuptials, despite his own busy schedule. According to the baffled groom: ‘He was speaking on the phone and he said to whoever he was speaking to that The had to go, because we were getting photos.’ HE upshot is that the Hendersons now have a picture of the happiest day of their lives – meeting Alex Salmond. It has to be said they make a good looking triple, with Salmond leaning towards Mrs Henderson, lips puckered. It’s a proper movie moment; although the moment that comes to mind is when Sigourney Weaver meets her co-star in Alien 3.
The idea that Alex Salmond may insert himself into your nuptials is unnerving, especially if, like me, you have yet to do the elderly and sensible thing and tie the knot. Now as well as dress fittings, you will have to fit in the possibility that the former leader of the SNP could rock up in time to catch the bride’s bouquet, before unfurling an enormous Saltire.
At the wedding dinner, Alex may prove to be the star speaker, or more accurately, the only speaker since he insists on giving all the speeches, including an admonition as father-of-the-bride to ‘behave yourself, woman’, and heartfelt good wishes as best man for a long and happy future, while compelled to point out this future would be much more longer and happier in an independent Scotland.
Later there is dancing – once Alex has been through the band’s set list and replaced all the David Bowie numbers with The Proclaimers. Some of the guests ask if they can vote to keep their favourite songs, but Alex says no, he’s tried that one before.
Finally, at the end of a very long wedding, Salmond jumps into the driver’s seat of the honeymoon limo, beams at the happy couple, and says that although the petrol gauge is registering zero, he’s confident that they have loads of petrol, enough for hundreds of miles, and certainly enough to guarantee Scotland has a bright and joyous independent future.
And off they go – Alex waving, and you and your husband beating against the windows like Helen Mirren at the end of The Long Good Friday.
Never mind, at least we know that Alex Salmond has finally found a union he can support.