As Stewie would say: heeeeeeeeeeeeeeere we go. Because... I just crossed another line. My feet are planted firmly in Stodgyville. I am clearly part of that population born before 1980, meaning that I am in the minority, age-wise. I'm so old, if I go to an antiques auction, people bid on me. So old, undertakers tell me it's hardly worth it to go home. The first rainbow I saw was black and white, my birth certificate is in Roman numerals, I have an autographed Bible.
Because... I don't get this thing with people dancing their way into their wedding ceremony. It's the latest viral video and it's making me a little viral. No one asked me, and it's a free country, but to my mind, if you get married in a church, you do so because you wish to lend a certain holy solemnity to the occasion. A house is not a home, stone walls do not a prison make, and a church is not a discotheque.
And I like to see people dance. Most tragically, I am not able to dance due to a horrible industrial accident involving a freight roller, a quart of Pennzoil and a foolish bet, but I love to see people who can really cut a rug get out there and cut one. (Pause for cheap laugh.) We've been to weddings at which the bridal party dances into the reception, and loved it! That's where the dancing should take place, unless you're also going to have a martini fountain and a huge lasagna at the church vestibule.
I dunno; that's just my take on it. I have to go listen to The Great Gildersleeve anyway.