DUE TO MY HEAVY INVOLVEMENT in my niece’s wedding this past weekend, I did not
have time to write a column. In lieu thereof, I am publishing a copy of my thank-you
note to her. My regular column should return next week.
***
Dear Anne Marie,
First off, I would like to thank you for hugging me right after your Uncle Cliff finished
singing the song I wrote. (Well, me and Earl Scruggs, but you know what I’m talking
about.) As you approached me, I will admit, I experienced a little trepidation. I confess
that I thought you might slug me instead of hug me. In light of that I was working on a
defense of my words — but I am glad I didn’t need to use it.
[Note: Defamation, which is, according to Wikipedia, also called calumny, vilification,
slander (for transitory statements), and libel (for published words), communicates a
claim of fact, express or implied, that cast an individual in a negative light. To be
defamation, this claim must be false and communicated to someone other than the
person defamed. Truth is often the best defense against a charge of defamation.]
After everything you had done to make for a perfect wedding (six beautiful
bridesmaids, six handsome groomsmen, stunning you and suave John arriving in a
horse-drawn carriage all adorned with flowers, flower petals strewn down the grassy
aisle, and a romantically lit and decorously decorated reception hall), I clearly knew that
you wanted a storybook ceremony and reception. So, I probably could have
anticipated that hearing bass and banjo playing the theme music to the Beverly
Hillbillies was not quite what you had in mind just after the cake cutting. (After looking
over your single-spaced, three-page “Timeline for Anne Marie and John’s wedding
weekend,” I can see that there is no entry labeled “Be embarrassed by aunt and uncles
performing corny hillbilly music.”)
We understand that Pachelbel’s Canon in D was more what you had in mind. As for the
Ballad of Anne Marie, I certainly did not intend to make any comparison between you
and Jed Clampett, express or implied. I am sure you understand that that song simply
provided the musical and lyrical framework by which a story might be told.
Please consider that you did become a vegetarian — while living in a household of
omnivores — by your own decision when you were in kindergarten and have remained
so ever since. This is well established, as are your dad’s stories about having to order
McDonalds Cheeseburger Kiddie Meals for you — then telling them to “hold the
burger.”
Reliable sources at that first first-grade parent-teacher conference also state that your
teacher claimed that when she tried to teach you to write your name “correctly,” you
said to her, and I quote, “Well, that’s how you make your ‘A,’ this is how I make mine.”
I am sure you realize that the story of your secretly feeding Daisy chocolate when you
were both just pups only shows your giving nature. Sorry if any unpleasant memories
of the cleanup afterward were evoked.
Also, I am sure that John understood that when our song told him that he should learn
to say “Yes, ma’am,” “I’m sorry” and “You’re right again, honey,” that is sound marital
advice for any husband. (At least, that’s what Sandra tells me — to which I always reply,
“You’re right again, honey.”)
And, despite the rhyming “gloat” and “thank-you note” lines in the song, I wouldn’t
really expect you, or anybody else, to write a thank-you note for what we added to
your perfect wedding — though your dad already has.
And, another thing, even though I was standing right next to the bucket of sparklers
when they exploded sending all of the wedding guests scrambling and setting off the
fire alarm, it wasn’t my fault. Really.
Hope you and John are enjoying St. Lucia.
With love,
Your Uncle Gary
p.s. The cheeseburgers at the rehearsal dinner were really good. Tell John that I said
thanks.
Gary D. Gaddy is very proud of his favorite (for this week at least) niece who is almost
as hardheaded as her favorite (before this week anyway) uncle and just about exactly
twice as sweet and thoughtful.
A version of this story was published in the Chapel Hill Herald on Friday September 3,
2010.
Copyright 2010 Gary D. Gaddy
garygaddy.com 