POWER PLAY: ALWAYS A GROOMSMAN BUT NEVER A GROOM

For someone who vows never to get married, I am asked to be in an awful lot of weddings.

Always a groomsman, never a groom. That's fine by me.

In the past four months, I have been in two weddings and another is coming this summer. The Equal Employment Opportunity Commission must have a regulation requiring wedding parties to include a token bachelor.

Last weekend I participated in the wedding of some species of cousin, a nuptial ceremony which proved to be the least disastrous with which I have been associated. In fact, just about everything went smoothly, which as anyone who has ever been to a wedding knows, almost never happens. Somebody always forgets something or is late or spills something nasty on their clothing or causes some other major crisis.

The level of organization this weekend, however, should have come as no surprise considering that both my cousin and his bride are accountants.

Monty Python did a great sketch about accountancy in which a middle-aged accountant goes to a job placement agency in hopes of finding a new career. The man at the placement agency tells the accountant that test results indicate that he is a boring, tedious, dull man with no personality, and while in most professions those characteristics are severe drawbacks, in accountancy they are an absolute boon.

Cousin and Mrs. Cousin, of course, are very pleasant and untedious people. However, their professional skills definitely transferred over into their wedding preparations. With attention to minutiae as fine as they no doubt give when plowing through massive ledgers, I don't think they missed a thing.

And they certainly threw one kickin' fiesta. Fountains of champagne, live band (albeit a country band), cool party favors and several hundred happy, drunken friends and relatives.

My theory is that the primary reason for the wedding reception is to provide the wedding party with an incentive to show up, because -- let's face it -- being in a wedding isn't all tequila and corsages. I admit it's fun to dress up in a tux from time to time. However, it's not something I would choose to do just for kicks.

On the subject of wedding costumes, women really get a bad deal. Guys just cough up 60 or 70 bucks to rent tuxes for a weekend. Women, unfortunately, must spend hundreds of dollars for a dress they will never wear again. Doesn't quite seem fair, but I suppose it's not wise to question the will of the marriage gods.

Aside from wearing silly clothes, you are also expected to endure the dreaded rehearsal in which you stand around while the in-laws scuffle over exactly how things should be done.

The worst part, without a doubt, is the photos -- hours of posing in every conceivable formation and trying to maintain the cheery demeanor you showed up at the church with. Snap a couple Polaroids and be done with it, I say.

But the wedding party endures and as a reward is entitled to kick back and put on a good drunk at someone else's expense.

While it is highly improbable that I will ever get married, if I do, I intend to make it a memorable one.

The primary way that will be accomplished is that myself and all the groomsmen will wear kilts. No tuxedos, just kilts and those special socks that go with them. And maybe those goofy plaid hats. At the reception I'd like to serve haggis -- a nasty Scottish dish involving sheep's bladders -- but even I have my limits.

I mentioned that at the recent wedding of a friend, who, though not surprised, said he doubted that my bride-to-be would allow that. However, if a woman ever agreed to spend the rest of her life with me she would no doubt understand what she was getting into long before it came time to pick out kilts.

However, this is probably why you'll probably never find my name on a marriage license. Anyone willing to marry me -- kilt and all -- would either be suffering from severe mental and emotional problems or behave even weirder than I do.

Then again, maybe someday I'll meet a nice Scottish girl.

~Marc Powers is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.