Nuptial preparations have turned into marathons
“You’re going where?” My son’s answer crackled through the phone.
“And you’re doing what?” I couldn’t help the note of alarm that had crept into my voice. “For how long?”
Another volley of words blasted through.
“Why would you guys even do that?”
By then his exasperation was obvious. With good reason, of course. I had no business sounding critical or worried about a gainfully employed, independent man of 30 with a wife, a dog, a fancy townhouse, and a car lease. But here’s the thing: Regardless of how old my children are or how successful they become, I will never ever be rid of this simmering disquiet, of an undercurrent that keeps me on permanent alert for potential dangers.
In this case, Son No. 3 was headed on a fourday trip to Colombia for a friend’s bachelor party. A few months earlier, he had traveled to Costa Rica for a similar celebration. The longtime buddies — now doctors, dentists, techies and CPAs — were coming together from cities across the country for one last hurrah.
Everyone was vaccinated, he assured me. Everyone would be testcheap, ed before leaving and before returning. They would wear masks. They would avoid crowds and indoor places. COVID-19, however, was just one of my concerns. I couldn’t quite fathom the reason this rite of passage had morphed from one night to an over-the-top, multiday event.
Back in early 2019, Son No. 3 had one of these blowouts himself. The first of his friends to get married, his bachelor party was held in Las Vegas. It involved, I think, a long weekend of probable debauchery. I was told nothing about it, and for that I’m grateful.
What a fuddy-duddy I’ve become! I truly should try harder to adapt to new traditions and changing times. Because these pre-wedding binges aren’t a passing fad. And by no means is it just men angling for these all-stopspulled occasions. My newest daughter-in-law recently attended a friend’s bachelorette party in a resort town in Mexico.
Hardly a month goes by without me hearing of some “bach party” in the Bahamas or Nashville or Acapulco. Then again, maybe 2021 has hosted more of them because there’s been pent-up demand from pandemic postponements.
Nevertheless, it strikes me as ironically hilarious that, at a time when fewer people are marrying, nuptial preparations have turned into such marathons. There are engagements parties and bridal hair-and-makeup sessions, rehearsal dinners and post-reception gatherings. None of these come but it’s the “bach parties” that have truly exploded. TheKnot.com recently posted a story about the “steep increase” in the length and cost of these shindigs.
This year the average four-day bachelor party will leave a guy $1,301 poorer. Bachelorette parties come in at $906. No chump change either way. Yet, if anecdotes are any indication, this kind of expenditure turns out to be a wonderful memory-maker.
Truthfully, I’m kind of envious. Like most women of my generation, I was the guest of honor at a low-key bridal shower put together by friends and family. There was no champagne sampling or male strippers or bar crawls. On the other hand, there was plenty of tittering and teasing when I opened gifts of scanty lingerie.
Today’s bride is hardly a blushing ingénue. These women are older and worldlier. So are their grooms (or brides). They own their own air fryers and knife sets, their own individual idea of how a couple should work together. Good for them!
So, if they want to toast the end of singlehood, I must learn to get out of the way. Happy passages must be marked in some way, and surely nothing signals adulting more loudly than marriage.
Ana Veciana-Suarez writes about family and social issues. Email her at avecianasuarez@gmail.com or visit her website anavecianasuarez.com. Follow @AnaVeciana.