Advice For The Lovers: Hire A DJ, Not A Band

Last Friday, December 7, marked a famous day in our country's history.

Pearl Harbor Day? Yeah, I suppose that's a significant date. But that wasn't what I was thinking about.

It was payday, but that truly significant event happens every two weeks.

The parade through downtown? Of course ... not. The West Branch Christmas Parade was nice, but there is one event which encompasses all of the glory of a parade, payday and other noteworthy experiences.

December 7 was the day my managing editor, one Jeffrey A. Savitskie, and one Amy Ruediger, took the inevitable plunge into that much-cherished entity known as wedlock.

Having never been married, I am fully unqualified and inexperienced in giving advice on nuptial bliss.

But that never stopped me before.

This information is geared to anyone who is even remotely close to getting hitched, bonded, tethered, joined, tied, handcuffed, better halved, sharing tax returns, united, or, for lack of a better word, married.

Or even engaged.

Mind you, it's too late for these lovebirds. But I can still give some advice to you, the prospective "made in heaven" team.

Now, I'm not going to give a lot of advice on the actual ceremony. I'll leave the service up to the reverend or rabbi in charge.

My advice is geared toward your having the best reception possible.

I used to play disc jockey at weddings and have entertained enough people at receptions to fill the Pontiac Silverdome.

I have seen just about anything and everything that can happen at a reception, from fights to "kiss the bride/groom" ratings (almost always a perfect 10) to Groucho Marx fake glasses.

Now, none of this will pertain to the newlyweds mentioned in this column. Jeffrey and Amy had a small, private ceremony. But if they had gone all-out, they might have used some of these basic pointers:

A) Hire a disc jockey, not a band.

This is a personal bias, as I was never talented enough to play in a band. But let it affect your decision, especially if you end up hiring me.

Disc jockeys always have the most up-to-date music. Let's face it - if you ask a band to play Warrant's "Cherry Pie," odds are that, unless it's a garage band, they won't know it (not that I would blame them).

B) Know what songs will be played and let the disc jockey (or, i guess, band) know what songs you do and don't want played.

This sounds a little technical, but let me explain:

There are about 10 songs which are "musts" at wedding receptions. Most of them you've probably heard at every wedding - "Celebration," "Old Time Rock and Roll," "Footloose," "The Hokey Pokey," "New York, New York," "Johnny B. Goode" and "Twist and Shout" are included in this list.

But let the DJ (or band) know what you do or don't want played.

If you insist on hearing "American Pie," let the person in charge know. If "Disco Duck" is "your song," tell them.

If you cannot stand Elvis Presley, tell the M.C. (or lead singer) not to play anything by him. Even if everyone else in the place wants to hear "Jailhouse Rock."

Hey, you're paying the bill.

C) Pick a sappy, meaningful love song for the bridal dance.

One time, I was asked to play "Aqualung" by Jethro Tull for the bridal dance.

(If you've never heard of Jethro Tull, let's just say that, while I like its music, one does not normally hear any of it at weddings. It's hardly the type which will cause insulin shock by listening to.)

I stared at the couple for a moment, trying to understand what they said. Then, when I realized they were serious, I explained to them that my pet goldfish had chewed up my Jethro Tull's Greatest Hits album the week before. So they picked "Always" by Atlantic Starr, a more fitting tune.

And one the fish had not eaten.

D) Consider the "worst man" choice carefully before asking.

Everyone knows who the "best man" is - the guy who does all the dirty laundry work before the wedding so that he can give a meaningful toast at the beginning of dinner.

But the "worst man" is entirely different. He's the man who comes in late, objects to the wedding (it doesn't matter why), dresses funny and gets stone-face drunk midway through the evening's festivities.

With these pointers, I hope your wedding goes off without a hitch.

And to Jeffrey and Amy: I hope you enjoyed the most important night of your lives - even if you didn't have a disc jockey (or band) to make your reception complete.

This article originally appeared in the Ogemaw County Herald.

If You Join the Army, Don't Cry C.O. To Me

By now, you're probably aware that several armed forces personnel would much rather stay home than go to the Persian Gulf because of the risk of war. In particular, they are claiming to be conscientious objectors.

One of the objectors is a northern Michigan man, 25-year-old Sgt. Michael Morse of Grayling. Morse is currently facing court-martial charges because of his stance, which is that war and killing are immoral.

Well, not that I personally disagree with the stance, but his claim has me scratching my head. Buddy, if you think war is so wrong, why the hell did you join the Army, anyway?

Oh, that's right. The cash. The job training. The perks.

Morse, it seems, joined the Army out of high school because he wasn't sure about college and had no immediate plans to hit Wall Street, I guess.

So, like thousands of other recent high school graduates who watch television and believe that wearing battle fatigues can make you the best you can be, he enlisted.

When he got out, he found that no jobs beckoned his talents. So he re-enlisted.

Morse was due to be discharged this month, but instead was told he was heading to the sandy side of the world.

And now he cries C.O.

The Army must be having a field day with this one. Morse has the nerve to cry, "I won't go" during his second stint with the Mean Green Machine. They're probably asking the same question I posed seven paragraphs back - "If you believe war is wrong, why are you here?"

Before I continue, let me say this: I am a conscientious objector. I've attended lectures and forums, collected a stack of information from anti-war groups about two feet high, and have albums by Bob Dylan and Pete Seeger, to name a few, in my record collection.

So, much like Morse, I am anti-war and I think the Middle East situation is a terrible waste of time, money, energy ... and lives.

The difference is, I didn't enlist.

Now, I could sympathize with Morse and his family ... if he had been drafted. That would make this case a whole new ballgame.

But he wasn't drafted. No one put a gun to his head and said, "We want YOU!" Rather, he went on his own. Signed the contract. Took the money. The job training. The whole package.

Morse wants to change the rules in the middle of the game. He's trying to back out of a contract he knowingly put his John Hancock on.

Morse claims one of the reasons he enlisted was that war didn't appear on the horizon at the time. If he had known, he would not have re-joined. He doesn't believe in killing.

Well, phooey on you, Sarge. Anyone with a brain could tell you that war is not usually an event planned in advance for years to come. The Persian Gulf situation, as volatile as it is, surprised most of the world - even with the region being in constant turmoil.

The threat of was is a minute-by-minute thing in the Middle East. And we, being the world's overbearing watchdog, will be dragged in at some point.

As for the claim about killing? Well, there aren't many people who thrive on the matter. Not many kids grow up saying, "I want to be a killer." I get weak thinking about injuring a squirrel with my truck, not to mention the thought of killing another human being.

But death is a part of war, as is the Army. Young men go to war. Some come home. Some come back injured. And some never make it back.

This isn't high school.

Morse is setting a bad precedent for us true C.O.'s. And he isn't exactly doing the Army a favor, either.

This article originally appeared in the Ogemaw County Herald.