Non-Muggle Wedding Vows

Below is what I said (nearly verbatim) at my wedding last month when it was time to make my vows to the love of my life, Eilen Jewell.

I knew I didn’t want to recite any boring muggle vows. People can tend to get restless at weddings, so I wanted to make sure they were entertained, amused.

To be fair, I did say sincere and meaningful things. But to be equally fair, if you’re preoccupied with the need to amuse at such a moment, you might in fact have the soul of a clown…

King Solomon said: When thou vowest a vow unto God, defer not to pay it; for he hath no pleasure in fools: pay that which thou hast vowed. Better is it that thou shouldest not vow than that thou shouldest vow and not pay.

My dad started quoting that to me when I was about four, which was weird, but anyway somewhere along the way I took it to heart.

Therefore I want to keep my vows realistic. Reasonable. Not that I’m trying to suck the romance out of it. I just don’t want to overshoot this thing.

So, here are what I hope are some attainable, not-over-lofty vows that I can actually keep. Think of them as SmartVows.

From this day forward, I vow to be your problem.

And when you get to the point where you’re saying to your therapist, “I mean he’s cool, and he tries, and I do really love him, but I guess I just didn’t realize what a BIG PROBLEM he was gonna be,” I vow to keep on being your problem.

And I vow that if I screw up — well, when I screw up, which will be a lot — I mean a lot — I will admit it and say, “I was a fool. Please forgive me. I will never ever be such a fool again. At least not in that exact same way.”

And I vow not to drive like a maniac when you’re in the car.

And I vow that when you’re in the bathroom I won’t turn off the light before you come to bed so that you don’t crash your knee into the cajon.

And I vow that over time, slowly, painstakingly, I will become less annoying.

Actually, nevermind that one. Too ambitious.

But when I’m clowning, trying something out, and you don’t laugh, I won’t just keep doing it and doing it. I’ll drop that and try something else, and if that doesn’t work either, I’ll drop it too, and just keep trying things until you do laugh.

Phew!

Okay, those were the hard ones. I thought I’d get them out of the way.

Now for the easy part:

I will never leave you.

And over time I will become a better Eilen whisperer.

That is to say: I will spend the rest of my life learning to love you better.

I will never leave you — not even when you really, really, really wish I would.

Well, maybe to go for a walk or something. I’m not against giving you like a little break from time to time, a reprieve from my antics. Or just to buy you some almond milk or English Breakfast tea or whatever. But like the Terminator, I’ll come back!

I will never threaten to leave you. Not even in a joke.

And I won’t let the spell of us break.

And if it does break, I will take you back to Esalen, dose us both with Molly, sign us up for a couples’ tantra workshop, sing you Donovan songs on WhatsApp, re-read all my old Eilen poems with Brahms playing, or whatever it takes to recast the spell.

For from today my land will be your land, and my people will be your people, and your brilliant little Tasmanian mermaid princess will be my brilliant little Tasmanian mermaid princess, because my blood is now your blood.

And finally I vow that when we’re old, too old to do much else, like y’know travel or work out or basically anything, I vow that we’re going to laugh.