The Somewhere Over the Rainbow Wedding

A little story about ties and ukuleles

A hundred years ago when my one and only daughter was just a baby, seven months old, I had a little ceremony involving a little bonfire. You see, her mother and I had come to a little agreement. Despite being male, I had an unrelenting urge to be a mother. My spouse and I agreed that once our baby was weaned from her mother’s breasts that I would take over as mother and the real mother would go back to the world of work. We were switching places.

For years I had worn a tie to work each and every day. I was a corporate drone. Blindfolded, I could tie a perfect tie without even thinking about it. I had done it so many thousands of times. You know, a tie around one’s neck is a lot like a noose around one’s neck. I hated it and I swore that once I quit my corporate job that I would never wear a tie again.

Well, the day finally came. My wife had secured a job that she was soon to begin and I had just worked my last day as a corporate drone. The event begged for a celebration.

So I dug a little fire pit in the yard of our Santa Fe apartment. I’m sure it must have been against the provisions of the lease agreement to build a bonfire but I didn’t care. This was a moment that simply required celebration.

I gathered twigs and sticks from the neighborhood and got a decent fire going. I then went inside and gathered every single tie that I owned — well over two dozen!

I placed our two lawn chairs around the fire. My wife whipped out her breast and the baby started suckling. You suck hard, little girl, I thought silently, you ain’t getting none of that from me.

As my baby girl suckled I slowly fed one tie after another into the little bonfire. After the first few ties we moved our lawn chairs a little further back from the fire. Some of those ties smelled rather toxic.

I kept feeding the bonfire with twigs and sticks that I had piled up near the fire. The fire continued to somewhat rage as I kept feeding it more of my ties. I watched the smoke slowly billow up towards the evening’s full moon. It was a delightfully liberating experience.

The baby was sound asleep by the time I fed the bonfire my very last tie. Suddenly I no longer owned any more ties! And that was fantastic. I did not want to wear another tie!

For the next twenty years I never again wore a tie!

That precious little baby kept growing and growing. I spent the next five years being her mother. It was the most wonderful five years of my life. But then, as a young girl, she went off to school and I was left deciding what to do with my life. There was no way I was going to go back to being a corporate drone — after all, I no longer owned any ties — so instead I started my own business and for the next nine years I was the CEO of a mom and pop business. And not once during those nine years of being a CEO did I ever wear a tie! I was not that kind of CEO.

And then eventually the wife left me to go live with her boyfriend. My daughter also left me to go live with her boyfriend. ‘Home’ became just me and the dog and the cat.

And then one day my wonderful daughter came by the house to visit. “I’m getting married in two weeks,” she said. She was twenty years old; the same age her mother was when I married her. I was not completely sold on her boyfriend; a boy she had known since kindergarten. He was okay but I was not sure if he was good enough for my special girl. But I expressed my joy for her and told her I would most certainly be there.

The only problem, of course, is that I did not own a tie.

So I called up my wife’s boyfriend and asked him if he had a tie I could borrow.

Boy, that was embarrassing!

So when the day came the wife and her boyfriend showed up at the house with a tie which I quickly put on. Okay, maybe it was not so quick. I realized that I had almost forgotten how to tie a tie. The three of us then went to my daughter’s wedding.

How freaking weird was that?

A hundred years ago, when the wife and I got married we took a cab downtown to the offices of a local justice of the peace. We paid the ten bucks for a marriage license and then the justice of the peace married us in his office. His secretary came in as a witness. We did not even have rings.

Way back then I considered that to be a truly romantic wedding.

But my daughter far outdid me. Her wedding was held in the municipal room of a local town’s community building. There were actual decorations, for crying out loud! And there was a theme!

The theme was, ‘Everything Hawaiian.’ They actually had fake paper palm trees scattered about the room. We were given flower leas upon entering the room. And there was ukulele music playing.

I suddenly realized how appropriate it was. After all, the wife and I had graced our wonderful little girl with a beautiful name that was a word from the Hawaiian language. Her name is, Naia, which is the Hawaiian word for, ‘dolphin.’

Tears welled up as I realized that my little dolphin was getting married!

It turned out that there was not only a theme but a special song. My daughter and her boyfriend — soon to be husband — had a special song. I thought back to when my wife and I got married and we did not have a special song. (If we did I sure as hell could not remember it.)

Their special song was, Somewhere Over the Rainbow. But it was not any of the classical versions of that song. It was the Hawaiian version sung by the legendary Hawaiian ukulele player, Israel Kamakawiwo’ole. (It became a hit and was made famous by the movie, Fifty First Dates.) I had no earthly idea that was ‘Their Song.’

Eventually, after the vows had been said and the wedding was official there came the part in the wedding where the bride danced with her father. I suddenly realized that I had not danced in almost twenty years. But I faked it pretty okay. The main thing is that I was brimming with joy for my daughter.

When I write in the morning (which is when I do most all of my writing) I never listen to music. That is, unless it is warm enough for me to have the windows open at which point I will listen to birdsong; the ultimate music there is.

But tonight it is cold and all my windows are shut closed. I decided to go against my natural inclinations and listen to music. I brought forth my playlist and I scrolled like a bird looking for inspiration. I finally came to the version of, Somewhere Over the Rainbow, by Israel Kamakawiwo’ole. Wow, I hadn’t listened to that in a long, long time.

So I listened to it. Again and again. I fell into a pattern of joy.

I was transported to Hawaii. And I was transported into a complex layer of memories. I was uplifted to a layer of excitement.

The other day I was over at my daughter’s house playing with my two delightful granddaughters, the oldest of which is eight years old. (That boy, by the way, turned out to be the perfect husband for my little dolphin and father to my granddaughters.)

Tonight, as I’m listening to ukulele music, I am thinking about my daughter’s wedding so many years ago. I am remembering the joy.

And then I started doing some math. Since my oldest granddaughter is eight years old that means that in another decade or so….

…. I might have to borrow a tie again!