We’re going to a wedding today. I am proud to say that Connecticut is among the first states to approve gay marriage, affording many of our friends who have been together as long as we have been a privilege that we took for granted: the right to spend far too much money on a wedding.

The invitation that arrived several weeks ago was tasteful and masculine; in other words, brown. I put “what to give them’ on the back burner to simmer and went about my life. But, as the day approached, I knew I had to make a decision.

Wedding gifts are generally a simple matter in our Jewish/Italian extended family. You give money. The amount of money is determined by a simple formula based on calculating the relationship to the couple times the price per person of the reception dinner times the number of people attending. Do not forget that, by the time you have gotten to a Jewish/Italian wedding, you have already given an engagement gift and a shower gift. But these guys were just having a wedding! And they’d been together for years so they already had everything! We went shopping.

In the absence of necessity, taste becomes the ruling factor in choosing a gift. I wanted it to be practical but memorable. And affordable. Face it; I am out of work. With this in mind, we set out for the Mikasa Store in Danbury. It was gone. We went to the mall and took the elevator to the Fine China department at Macy’s. We spent a long time perusing the Waterford, Lenox, Orefors, etc. I fell in love at a table full of Kosta Boda bowls and vases, each one a work of art that I couldn’t lift… or afford. We walked the mall. Nothing. We went back to Macy’s. There was the Opel Innocence line by Lenox that our son and daughter-in-law had registered for that now covered their small home.
“Too feminine,” my husband said.
I found a picture frame edged in baby pearls.
“Too feminine.”
A clear, cut-glass frame by Lenox.
“Maybe.Tom and Dick (let’s just call them that for now) aren’t frilly. They’re guys!”
I found and fell for a handsome metal salad set by Mikasa in the Spiro pattern. We asked the salesperson. She couldn’t find it. She brought us the other Mikasa set: “Orchard Bloom”.
“Too feminine! ”
We said we’d buy the floor sample. She went to find the box. She couldn’t find the box but did find the pasta set. I said I preferred the salad set. She set off again. Finally she returned having found an unopened salad set and “Guess what! It’s going on sale tomorrow! I’ll give it to you today.”
“Wonderful!” We went to the register.
“Are they registered?” I looked at my husband. My husband looked at me.
“I doubt it.”
“Well, let’s check.”
I handed her the invitation that I happened to have in my purse. She looked at the names, looked up at us, smiled, and went to the computer. Moments later, she returned with a long print-out. There they were registered… for “Opel Innocence”!
“Wow”, they’re really gay!”
We left the salad set at the register and went to look for the Opel Innocence picture album they had requested. Not in stock. The intrepid salesperson checked the computer and found two other stores that, according to the computer, had them in stock. Several phone calls later it was confirmed there was no “Opel Innocence” photo album in the State. We bought the salad set. If they hate it, they can return it and order the other stuff but we loved it!
At the gift wrap desk, I picked out a subdued wrapping paper with a sedate bow. My husband opted for the big frilly one with a flower that nearly covered the box.
“What the hell,” he said. “I was wrong about everything else!”