It is a little-known and under-appreciated fact around the ol’ campfire that I am a man of the cloth, and am ordained to perform weddings, circumcisions and exorcisms.
Invested by the Church of the Latter Day Dude, I have officiated at five weddings to date. All five couples are still married and happy together. Babies have been born of these unions. It appears I have the golden touch for this work.
Last weekend, I officiated at the nuptials of a couple of good friends up in the Bighorns. The groom, Jackson Clarendon, is an amigo from my days in Laramie and he’s a fiddle player. The bride, Erin Clarendon (nee Maloney) made my infamous Ice Cream Shorts when she was a seamstress at Atmosphere Mountain Works.
They make the cutest damn couple! Serving at their wedding was a labor of love for me.
The wedding ceremony took place in a hay meadow on Jackson’s family ranch near Story, with the east flank of the Bighorns as the altarpiece. Guests sat on haybales in their country finery. Beer, in this particular church, is by no means discouraged.
Erin and her bridesmaids sewed their own dresses for the affair and they epitomized resplendent Wyoming womanhood. Erin also made sterling silver bolo ties for the bridesmaids and groomsmen.
Jackson and his groomsmen wore matching cowboy vests, bolo ties and hangovers.
Folks came from all over the Big Empty and Elsewhere for the festivities. Demographically speaking, the best-represented group was family, and a close second was musicians. There were lotsa dogs, too. More on that later.
It was a young crowd, of course. Weddings are for young ‘uns. Ranches in the area that day must have been left to the antelope and coyotes, because everyone came to the shivaree. I wasn’t the oldest human there, but I made the podium.
Jackson and Erin wanted a simple, brief ceremony and I think we made the record book for brevity.
The bride and groom wandered off to the edge of the meadow to say their vows privately to one another – the only vows that really matter - while guests chose their haybale pews. Mark Paninos played “The Lovers’ Waltz” on fiddle, accompanied by his daughter Elianna...a bandmate of Jackson’s, as the wedding party sauntered up to the altar.
Jackson’s 98 year-old grandma, Ginny, had really wanted to be at the wedding, but passed on a couple months before. So, we asked everyone to welcome her with warm thoughts in our hearts.
I dispensed with the part about asking if anyone objected to this marriage, because the group had been pretty well screened for malcontents beforehand.
Here’s the only part where I thought the wheels might come off the wagon.
The bride and groom had trained their dogs to deliver the rings at the appropriate moment. Three minutes or so into the service, I hollered “Release the beasts!” and expected to watch as the potlickers chased bunnies across the meadow or played with the other dogs in the congregation.
But, like clockwork, the rings were delivered flawlessly by faithful hounds who seemed as delighted as the rest of us with Erin and Jackson’s pairing. Rings were slipped on, words were said and the newly minted couple presented to friends and family for hugs. Like I said, it was a brief but joyous ceremony.
Jackson’s dad hosted a ranch roping in the afternoon that featured only a single buck-off, and the reception was held later at the Kearny Community Center. I told Erin and Jackson that, if they named their firstborn Rodney, regardless of gender, I would teach the little scamp to rope and chew Copenhagen.
The reception opened with a country jam on the porch with beaucoup old-timey cowboy songs followed by an open mic wherein friends took the stage to sing the “sappiest love song” they knew.
Then Pat Reedy, a rough-hewn singer-songwriter from who-knows-where, who is friends with almost everyone at the party tuned up and played for our dancing pleasure. The evening closed with a clothing-optional twist contest, with first prize being my old Rawlins Outlaw letter jacket.
Suffice it to say that my letter jacket was fairly won.
The lesson here, my friends, is that if you want to touch the real Wyoming, the beating heart of the Cowboy State, then watch good friends get married outdoors, under our indescribably beautiful sky.
I needed that.
Rod Miller can be reached at: RodsMillerWyo@yahoo.com
