Tuesday, June 21, 2005

The Real Runaway Bride

Sometimes people ask me what this blog is all about: Why do I spend so much time on this thing? I don't really have an acceptable answer usually...I mean, mostly I just alternate betweeen verbal diarrhea and mental masturbation. But when I really think about it, I'm pretty sure the tie that binds -- or more accurately its raison d'etre, if you will -- is an appreciation for the incredibly ironic and the wickedly absurd.

Now that I've made that clear and put this post in a nice frame, let's chat about my trip to Los Angeles. As I said on Thursday night, the Cowboy Family headed west for a wedding this weekend, a wedding which frankly nobody was too psyched about. And because it was out in LA, you just know there had to be some serious drama.

How many movies and television shows have you seen where the bride or groom gets cold feet and either doesn't show or runs out? In real life, however, and in a world not including chicks with really big eyes that fake their own kidapping then sit for interviews with Barbara Walters, that just never happens. Never. Just once I'd love to see that shit go down. We've all seen The Graduate, Smokey and the Bandit, Runaway Bride and that episode of Full House when Uncle Jesse absolutely freaks out and goes skydiving before his nuptials with the lovely Rebecca Howe. Now let's have one of those in real life.

I almost got my wish. Almost. After the rehearsal dinner on Saturday night, I went over to the palace of Mitchell VergerDartz III for some doje, ping pong and Triumph the Insult Comic Dog all-time great skits. When I returned to the hotel, Dad Cowboy called the room to tell me the bride-to-be walked into the lobby after dinner and announced to her family that she "didn't want to get married." The dreaded cold feet rearing their ugly toes. In real life!

Here's the best part: Instead of her family and friends trying to help her get over the feeling, the opposite occurred. See, nobody really loves the groom, and the jury's still out on whether the bride-to-be even does. He's basically a Nebbish Costanza -- no job, no prospects, not even such a nice guy. A poor schlub in every sense of the Yiddish. So when the bride-to-be made her claim, the floodgates opened and the torrent began. How is he going to support you when you leave work to have kids? Would you take him now as is, or do you need him to change first? Doesn't he feel like a con artist?

As an impartial observer with no real ties, I was lovin' this like McDonalds (ba da ba ba baaa). I felt bad for everyone involved, of course, but shit, this was fun. I went to bed late Saturday night thinking there was no way in hell this wedding would go off. Lo and behold, though, I woke up this next morning to the news: It's on. Against the advice of all her family and closest friends, there would be no postponement, no cancellation. I guess being a 36-year-old unhappily married wife or eventual divorcee is preferable to telling people you've always been single.

And at the ceremony, at the celebration, the couple couldn't have looked happier. Some say it looked fake, some say it looked cheesy, but I don't know, I saw them look at each other so longingly it hurt. I saw two people that cried their eyes out the night before, two people that looked into each other's souls and said, "Yeah, I can do this, we're gonna be okay." We're gonna be O-tay!

Sometimes it takes a little adversity to find the right answer. Everyone's laying down bets on the 2006 Under odds, but I think the 10-hour Warroom of Tears may have been what it took to make this an healthy marriage and everlasting love. I wish them all the best.

Side note: If anyone knows anyone in my family, this story is pure fiction. For those of you who don't know the people involved, it's 100 percent true.

As for the rest of my trip to LA, I had a wonderful time. I really did. The Cowboys stayed at a crazy hotel right down the street from the real-life Nakatomi Tower, a great room complete with Heavenly Bed and Heavenly Bath (you haven't taken a good shower 'til you've felt the stimulation of TWO working showerheads!).

VergerDartz and I hit Angels Stadium for the 10-inning come-from-behind win against the Marlins, and I got to see the Rally Monkey. By the way, it took us two hours to get down to the Stadium and about 30 minutes to get home. Why anyone would choose to live out in LA and drive on those highways every day is beyond me. Seriously.

Also, my family had a hilarious conversation with a paparazzi outside the usually celeb-studded eatery, The Ivy, that went something like:

Us: "Seen anyone around today?"
Him: "Nah, but I did just get a couple of shots of Pauly Shore going into the parking garage across the street."
Ace: "Wait, there's a market for Pauly Shore photos?"
Him: "Well, who knows, maybe he'll go on a drug-binge killing spree and I'll have the last photo of him before he went off the deep end."

Sadly for world-class starfucker, Mom Cowboy, we didnt see anyone famous at The Ivy (she did see the Hilton sisters the night before at Koi, though, so she's got that going for her, which is nice). In fact, the only celebrities I saw the whole weekend were Judge Judy and her husband Judge Jerry, but they were guests at the wedding and I've met them before at my brother's. The highlight of the wedding actually was being sloshed and watching Judge Judy bust a serious move on the dance floor with an 11-year-old girl.

So that's my story. And now I'm back. At work. Which rocks.


At 4:01 PM, Blogger TJ in OH said...

Sounds like a typical weekend in the star-crossed life of the Ace Cowboy. A snippet in the Philly rags here, doing bumps with Pauly Shore in a parking garage there...it's all very glamorous, indeed.

At 4:37 PM, Blogger Ace Cowboy said...

And I just walked right smack into Aaron Brown about 10 minutes ago. I mean, right into him. Guy's got Ace's handprint on his chest.

At 5:29 PM, Blogger John Howard said...

When are you gonna be in People, like Mulgrew?

At 6:13 PM, Blogger PaulNoonan said...

Guy's got Ace's handprint on his chest.

Do you always feel up everyone you run into?

At 9:16 AM, Blogger Ace Cowboy said...

People Mag is for chumps.

And yes, I try to feel up everyone, even semi-retarded news anchors.

At 11:46 AM, Blogger Ace Cowboy said...

Oh by the way, a nice side-note to the story:

I was watching a snippet of get Shorty last night...and there's a scene after Hackman gets his ass kicked by Dennis Farina's when he meets with Devito, Russo and Travolta at The Ivy.

I didn't realize it 'til last night, but we sat at the exact table they have that meeting at. Pretty cool stuff. And I watched the sequel, Be Cool, on the plane ride home. Pretty weird stuff.

I love LA.


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