There's a place for us 1.0

In the past two years TWIL and I have been to two weddings held in a manner I think of as Middle Eastern. The bride and groom rent a house, invite their friends and family, sing and dance and drink and just - you know - hang, and then marry on Saturday before turning the place over to a family from New York City. "Middle eastern" in length and leisure; day after day of good times. We became fast friends with a couple we met at Dave and Amy's wedding on Cape Cod. And we're determined to find a place.

But we've been looking since mid-July. First, and you know who you are, I want to see you outside. You red-wine spilling, furniture breaking, toilet-stopping, indoor cigar-butting, towel-bloodying, lawn-driving, fill-in-the-room vomiting renters' of summer houses who had your perfect nuptuials on the Cape or in southern Maine, I want a piece of you. We have emailed or phone a hundred houses whose owners told us that someone elses' wedding ruined it for us. There's the guy in a tux who got drunk, wandered down the beach and flopped down on the sofa for boozey rest. He was in the house next door. "Nobody lets people do that anymore," is the way homeowners end this screed. "It's too bad. It's a beautiful place for a wedding."

Of course, there are the liars. "We're booked during July and August. Best wishes to you! :)" But when we write back that June or September are possible, that we'll work with them on dates, they write back that they don't allow weddings. "It's complicated, we don't live nearby. We had a bad experience.... So few homeowners allow weddings anymore. A shame, too. It's beautiful."

One sweet semi-retired guy in Kennebunk Beach was willing to rent the place. He was openminded. And helpful. But 75 people was all he could see the property bear. Which meant also renting the country club for a day. You don't need to be Ben Bernanke to see how deficit spending would balloon to threaten future economic growth. For the record, I wouldn't rent my oceanfront property to a wedding. You don't have to be coy with us. But we think a 85-90 people might attend. So, we Google on.

I suppose we could have lied. "Really, it's a very small wedding...." And then just when you think it's all over but the dancing, someone's date say, you, find a set of lawn darts ("Jarts," where I come from), starts a game that leads to a pitched contest, but with too many Chardonnays or maybe it's a little stroke, the ten-inch yard missle goes through the ocean-facing window and stabs my aunt in the shoulder and she bleeds all over the powder blue sofa. When the EMTs show up to extract window glass from uncles and business associates, they say it looks like about 150 people milling around on the lawn. My aunt's fine - given enough physical therapy, she'll get full range of motion back - and you get over the shame - after all, it's an Unbelievable Story. But now you've ruined it for the last few couples who might have wed there. But we didn't lie. It's not us. And, you know, it's a beautiful place for a wedding.