Thursday, October 7, 2010

Vegas? Sure! Longuyland? Nevah!

I have been longing to be invited to an Italian wedding since 1972 (28 years ago) when "The Godfather" came out. Who can forget the wedding scenes? To be a guest at an absolute feast -- with wine flowing like water and people from babies to great-grandparents singing, laughing, dancing... (stifled sob) but I never have.

But: there's always living vicariously which is free to us all. So, listen to this! Former New Yorkers Red and Barbara just got back from a trip to Long Island for a family wedding. Red's nephew (I think) married a woman of Italian descent. They got to go to an Italian wedding, dammit! And I didn't! Hellfire and damnation!

Er, I was saying..that Barbara told me all about it yesterday. She started with the lobby -- all marble and gold trim, a sweeping expansive staircase, a massive arrangement of real flowers. She said there was a huge chandelier, too. Unimpressed so far, I mumbled, "Vegas" and she said, "Yes!"

There were cocktails (open bar) with every sort of appetizer one could ever wish. There was a nearly life-sized rowboat filled with sea food.

As they were recovering a bit from all of this -- the martini bar came down from the ceiling! Complete with a live bartender, grinning and polishing a glass!

She went on to say that it had to be an eight course dinner -- she had crab cakes as the starter, then the pasta course was served, then salad, then the entree -- choice of filet mignon, salmon... on and on it went. The dinner napkins were beige SATIN! How impractical is that?

She said the conclusion of the meal was "a train" of tables with your choices of gelato or pastries or cappuccino or after-dinner liqueurs! Amaretto, Tia Maria, brandy...

Get this: the bride and groom dined at a table on dais all by themselves in "king and queen" chairs. I forgot to ask if she had a silken bag hanging off the chair for, uh, cash donations?

You can see all of this wonderment (except the martini bar descending; couldn't find it to pull it up) by googling "The Sandcastle, Franklin Square, NY." And if you're going to marry a woman of Italian descent any time soon, CALL ME!

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