My deer/turkey hunting partner, SuperCore, had a problem when he went to get hitched to #5. His family was bible-thumping Baptist. The bride's was Catholic. As a result, they decided to ask me to do the ceremony. Yes, that's right: a shamanic wedding.
I'm a Methodist at heart, so that's where I started-- a nice Methodist service-- short and sweet. My son, Angus showed up in full Scottish drag and played bagpipes. It was deer season in Kentucky, so I wore an orange vest and hat to make it all legal. I had deer antlers, a turtle-shell rattle and turkey wing.
The best man was our buddy who's a Vietnam Vet. He's missing an eye from combat. I had him playing bongos. The maid of honor was the bride's sister. She had no idea what was coming. SuperCore's young granddaughters were tasked with bringing in a large iron mushroom as part of the procession.
I greeted everyone and gave a brief explanation, then called for the virgins to bring in the mushroom. I explained that many years a go this mushroom had shown up on my doorstep (true story) and that I had no idea where it had come from. About the same time I had folks start to attribute shamanic powers to me, and over time I realized a connection between the two. That is when I stopped using the mushroom as a doorstop and started to deal with it and shamanism seriously. I went on to liken it one's calling in life-- to our relationship with our Maker, to love between a man and a woman, and so on.
Eventually I seque'd into the Methodist service, pronounced them man and wife and that was that. Both sides were stunned. I retired to the kitchen for a drink of water.
Supercore's sister, the wife of the Baptist minister, was the first to set into me, she came up and interrogated me at length. What was my background? Did I believe in Jesus Christ? Was I a satanist? Finally she asked, "Is it legal?"
"I suppose that depends on what we do with the virgins?" I replied. "What do you do with them in your ceremonies?" She made a stifled scream and departed.
The maid of honor was completely verklempt. She sent the best man on to do her dirty work. He was eager to help; he was trying to get into her pants. So he came up and tried to act all indignant. "That was the strangest thing I've ever seen."
"That's mighty tall talk from a one-eyed bongo player!" I said, pulling myself up to my full height. "Fill your hands, you sonofabitch. . . and let's party." I then handed him two cans of beer. I'm not sure he caught the allusion or not, but he laughed and went away.
So there you have it-- the shaman's first wedding. The couple remained hitched to this day.
Here's the rest of the story:
SuperCore's Wedding