David and Chris, having been together just five months, got themselves married in a treehouse today.

We were going to do it down by the water at the famous and beloved Oakledge Park, but while the sun was out, the gale force winds blowing off the lake made the idea of a quiet little ceremony almost impossible.

Fortunately, there is a magical octagonal treehouse at one end of the park which was blissfully out of the blustery breeze.

Now, at this point, it’s time for True Confessions.  I am, as all who know me will attest, a wildly creative individual.  And this makes the writing and performing of wedding ceremonies a deeply inventive and joyous experience.

Unfortunately, I also have a mind like a sieve, and cannot remember simple facts to save my life.  In particular, I have, as my yoga students will attest, a rough time remembering names.  I’m good at remembering to ask peoples’ names, I just always forget to remember them.  And even when I think I know them, I often don’t trust myself at first, and will often avoid using someone’s name for fear of embarrassing myself.

In a heterosexual wedding ceremony, this isn’t a problem, because I have the couples’ names written right in front of me, and I can fairly easily figure out who’s Jane and who’s John.  But with a same-sex couple, I have to be very, very conscious about coming up with little mnemonics so that I don’t lose track of identities.

Today, though, I was a little distracted by the wind, and the fact that my friend Jennifer Kiewit, who I hadn’t seen in a while, was taking pictures.  And I completely forgot who was Dave and who was Chris.

But I didn’t realize I forgot until we were already well into the ceremony.  Not an elegant time to stop and re-do the introductions.  On the outside, I was reading a sweet and moving treatise on love.  On the inside, I was thinking, “Crappity crap crap crap!”

Then, I realized I had an escape hatch.  There’s a section in the ceremony where I address each guy directly – as in:

Chris, only you have the power to marry this man – your best friend and partner, who stands beside you.  Do you now wish to have David as your husband, knowing him as you do?

So I figured I could just make it a little more formal.  Looking at the wedding text, so as not to give away the fact that I didn’t know to whom I was speaking, I said:

Chris.  Please step forward.

And he did.  Problem solved.

I’m not proud of this.  Really, I’m not.  And as these charming guys exchanged vows, I vowed to myself not to let this happen again.  But I will say that there are times when having a background in theater and improv can come in very, very handy…

P.S. Chris completely cracked me up before the ceremony when he said, “I never thought I’d get married.  Two guys getting married?  That’s just so gay!”