Irish weddings are gatherings to savour in an insular world
Groucho Marx once said: “Marriage is a wonderful institution, but who wants to live in an institution?” Despite his observation, weddings are in no danger of extinction.
On a “big day out” under the glow of a Portuguese sun last week, the sight of 150 cavorting gleefully in the infectious state that envelops Irish folk loose in the warmth was a joy to behold.
As texts from back home brought news of thunderstorms and downpours, smiles grew wider as the temperature rose.
“They’ll have no need for a Child of Prague here anyway,” one lady remarked, twirling her parasol with the ease of a seasoned fandango dancer.
Surrounded by shimmering azure seas and tumbling bougainvillea, the blissful vibe went into overdrive as the happy couple exchanged vows in the balmy breeze.
“Please God the stout will be cool,” whispered my neighbour, mopping his brow in anticipation of the evening’s revelry.
This being a Kerry wedding, the variety of chat ranged across the prospects of a good tourist season, the cuckoo’s 9,000km journey from the Congo to Killarney, and how certain really are the Dubs for Sam Maguire.
As we applauded the bride and groom, a joker seated on my other side muttered that ancient Hal Roach quip: “Love means never having to say you’re sorry, and marriage means never having a chance to say anything.”
But even if comedians have long made a career on bad marriage jokes, medical facts do favour the health of the hitched. Studies support the matrimonial state as an antidote to heart attacks, stroke and dementia – evidence that underpins the vow “in sickness and in health”.
Indeed, the wedding day also brings a more immediate cause for exultation, as wonderfully recalled by the late Mick Doyle.
“The moment I said ‘I do’ I was transformed from a snivelling randy single man into a raving sex maniac with a game licence, free to procreate henceforth like a bunny in Ballybunion.”
In our insular world where people prefer to text than talk, the Irish wedding remains a clarion call to gather the clan, as our ancestors did, to break bread, drink our fill and dance like nobody’s watching.
Whether the occasion happens beneath a glorious Portuguese morning or a damp afternoon in Spiddal is of secondary consequence. What matters is a day where the clock stops to make indelible memories insulated from the crazy world outside.
As the happy couple departed to the honeymoon suite leaving us to the pleasant night, the advice of another departed Kerry philosopher, Brendan Kennelly, came to mind.
“Understanding women was an extension of how I played football – doing my best, but always with a sense of divilment. Once you get to know a woman’s mind and feelings, you are into a different country altogether.”
Decent advice for any groom to consider.