Tag Archives: wedding

father of the bride

One morning in the sauna after working out my gym partner Q was worrying about what he was going to say at his daughter’s upcoming wedding. I told him I’d take a whack at it for him.


Hello everyone….

Iʼd like to thank you all for coming and helping us celebrate this special day.

My name is Quenton Schott… Iʼm half of the team responsible for the beautiful woman you see sitting here at the table. **gesture to Jenny**

The only honor greater than being able to stand before you here today was the privilege of raising such an incredible person.

Jennyʼs been a chronic achiever all her life…. whether it was being a straight-A student, or her involvement in drama, choir and community service.

This track record supports my belief that this new chapter in her life and her choice to share it with such a fine young man such as Rick will bring her the same level of success and gratification sheʼs already accustom to.

So, for the customary advice part of the father of the bride speech Iʼd like to say a little something about The Curve. Now those of you that know me know,… and those who meet me quickly figure out,… Iʼm a bit of a baseball freak.

**pause for chuckles / laughs**

If youʼre bracing for a baseball metaphor… Relax. Iʼm not talking about one of Grover Clevelandʼs famous curve balls… or like the one (player name) threw striking out (player name) in the (name of series). **interrupt self**

Wait – I said no baseball metaphors!

**pause for chuckles / laughs**

No… Iʼm talking about the curve inherent in all things. The trajectory between two points… specifically beginning **gesture with left hand** and end. **gesture with right hand**

Styles, trends, TV shows, political movements, relationships, our very lives…. All have a beginning, an ascension to a crest and an decent to inevitable end.

This curve can take on all sorts of shapes… Some are just a short spike from beginning to end, others build to a sustained summit which lasts for a long time before finally dropping off.

These curves,… YOUR CURVE is shaped by all sorts of things. Some of which are completely out of our control.

Changing tastes, perspective shifts, accidents, discoveries, tragedies,… death itself.

Too many of us ride this curve completely preoccupied with, and fearing, the end. While others dwell on the path behind them.

You know THAT type… they tend to be old-farts like me and usually start every conversation with grousing openers like “Remember When?!?”

**pause for commiseration reaction**

While thereʼs absolutely nothing wrong with nostalgia or looking forward to the future. Donʼt forget to stop and enjoy where youʼre at on YOUR curve….

All we truly have is the right here, the right now… and each-other.

Rick -n- Jenny… Tonight weʼre here to celebrate a new curve… Yours together as husband and wife.

So letʼs get started!

My friends…

**pick up and raise your glass**

Please join me in a toast…

To Tom and Jenny… May your curve together last as long as you walk this earth…. but more importantly…. enjoy every moment of the ride.

**look at Jenny**

I love you Jenny.



I made a pact with my college classmates on graduation: If ever in the future any of our paths would re-cross and any of us were shooting weddings for a living – you were obliged to kill that person and put them out of their misery.

That was the first thought that ran through my head when my cousin called me and asked if I’d take pictures at his wedding…. Only second thoughts made me ponder the presumptive nature of calling someone you haven’t seen or spoken to in close to a decade and ask them to photograph your wedding for free.

I warned of how I and my lens selection were really best suited for shooting buildings ..

He answered with deadpan silence.

Figuring if an armed member of the Webster Media Photo Class of 1994 should show up on my doorstep, I can say I didn’t do it for money and was merely a victim of the playing of “the family card”… I said sure.

I’m pretty isolated from my family so the Jerry-Springeresque dynamics of the union were lost on me – but I got a primer in the church’s kitchen from my mom… who was similarly asked to cater the event. She obliged by preparing the standard, South-St. Louis culinary cliché spread of: roast-beef and Mostaccioli.

Got plenty of shots… it wasn’t that bad, hard or mundane really… Not sure what we were all so afraid of back in college. Considering that “wedding photographer” is in the top-ten most overpaid jobs in the US – it sounds like aside from having to work a lot of weekends – they have it pretty good.

Maybe it’s all some conspiracy started by a secret order of wedding photographers who’s mission is to discourage students from entering their field by creating the notion it’s the lowest possible rung on the photographic career ladder.

Regardless…. It wasn’t all that bad… I’m not buying a black suit and placing ads in STLBride anytime soon either oh look a chicken.


wedding paparazzi

My god-sister got married yesterday.

I didn’t necessarily feel any urgent familial need to go – but I am fond of my god parents and my mom’s guilt-pitch about needing an escort was buyable.

The bulk of my memories regarding my god sisters are of them as two charming little girls. They’re both grown now and are marrying off. One down.. One to go.

Aside from showing the necessary support – I figured it’d probably be a good idea to at least show my face since this god-sis is an account rep for one of the largest ad agencies in town and, (despite her actually being a really sweet girl,… no.. strike that… “woman”)- it would probably behoove me professionally not to be such a damn stranger.

The catholic pageantry struck me as bizarre as the satanic wedding we went to last year – however since I was raised catholic-liteâ„¢ – it wasn’t “so” alien.Jim doesn't like Church much

The priest did a reading about the origin of woman, (the whole anesthetizing Adam, removing one of his ribs and creating eve thing). It struck me as creepy and perpetuating the whole “inferriority of women” concept… However, I don’t have a bra to burn here – so we’ll just let that one lay.

For a catholic ceremony it seemed to go really fast – but then again – I was distracted taking “alternative wedding photos”… The three year old having a tantrum in the 5th row. The guy picking his nose in row ten. The oddly industrial air exchange vents. The wedding photographer. I’ll assemble these images and make a little flip book and send it as a gift.

My god-father exhibited all the warmth of an orthopedic ice-pack – but my god mother gave me a hug and thanked me for coming.

It was a painless few hours spent – not to mention it gave me something to not blog about.

so I went to this satanic wedding.

no, it’s not an iron maiden concert

So what do you do when you’re avoiding one of the largest bear runs in the midwest?

Go to a satanic wedding of course.

I met Jane about five years ago as a favor for a guy I was dating who asked if I would look at her graphic design portfolio. We met in a smokey neighborhood basement bar and by the time we were done, we had her book reorganized and were well on our way to becoming friends.

A towering woman of over 6 feet, Jane is every bit a lady but possess a somewhat domineering undercurrent to her personality.

It wasn’t until our friendship developed that I discovered she is an active member, and somewhat of a celebrity, in the heterosexual S&M scene. I was already on my way to adoring her, but this little factoid was merely icing on the cake. (see previous non-blog evidence of my compulsion to collect interesting and odd friends.)

A widow at the time we met, Jane started dating Cliff, a practicing satanic priest, about a year later.

wedding cake

Stoic, well spoken and strikingly handsome, Jane’s new beau was nothing like what I pictured a satanist would look like. We embraced him as a friend-in-law and over the next few years their love grew and Cliff finally popped “the big question”.

The combo ceremony / reception was at a mid-town American Legion hall. I was in kitsch heaven amidst all the cinder-block and wood paneled fabulousness. xenohomo, MrMoLeather and power-pet-dyke Mz. Shameless met us in the parking lot.

The crowd was an eclectic mix of satanists, homosexuals and what appeared to be nervous protestants.

Jane asked me if I would take photos which provided the perfect distraction to keep any latent, residual catholic knee-jerk reactions from overcoming me.

The ceremony was really no more mystical than your typical high-catholic mass. Censor waving, standing, sitting, a reading from “the book of satan”. *the echo effect on the microphone during the reading did start to make me chuckle. (or at least I “hope” it was just an echo effect!)

The vows were actually quite beautiful and touching.

Dagger waving, black shrouds and reverse lord’s prayer aside, I got a little teary when they embraced and I saw the tears of joy streaming from Jane’s eyes.

The reception was casually low key. *or is that Loki?

Folks freely mingled and we enjoyed baked Mostaccioli – a St. Louis wedding reception cliche.

I bounced around and filled every Memory Stickâ„¢ I own.

Of course, I was taking the photos for Jane and not for blogging-purposes. Otherwise, I’d feel obligated to post…