From The Vault:

A ‘Celebration’ For The Ages

This weekend, we’re celebrating the US and Canadian holidays by having a look into the tnocs.com Vault.

We’ll revisit past classic articles and stories from our Contributing authors.

Here’s one from 2020, from mt58:

There’s no question about it – in the 1980s, the ubiquity of Kool And The Gang’s Celebration was a marvel. This was especially true when you attended a wedding reception. Whether you loved it or despised it was irrelevant. The point was: you sure as heck were going to hear it.

I had always thought of Celebration in the same way that I did about compulsory auto insurance: you may not need it, you may not want it, but it’s the law: You will sign on and participate. Resistance is futile.

And, really, it wasn’t all that hard to buy into the idea. This record was pretty accessible; a real democratizer. It was safe, easy, simple fun. And, c’mon, all you naysayers: it will all be over in three and a half minutes.

Like any classic wedding reception dance song, it provided a justifiable reason for all ages, including your sedentary Uncle Louie to get up and cut the rug.

Dads with their little kids, cousins, co-workers… it just didn’t matter. Every guest was compelled.

And what if you absolutely refused to be a good sport and dance? Well, you still might find yourself subconsciously chair-grooving along with your fellow grouchy-bears, who had also elected to remain seated for the duration.

Unless you were that guy.

Back in 1981, I was odd-jobbing to pay for college. One of my side hustles was a music gig. I was the token kid-guitar player among a bunch of, um… seasoned musicians, in a locally popular wedding and function band septet, known simply as, “The Harry Ray Orchestra.”

At a typical Saturday night gig, we were running through the usual material that you would expect to hear from this kind of band’s set list. As he would do several times during an event, Harry announced that he was sitting out for a few minutes, probably going off to do a Boost shooter, or something. He told me to call the next tune, and then he disappeared into shadows of the mirror-balled venue.

As I was leafing through the song binder, Tony the sax player said, “Kid, do one of your disco numbers.” Tony the piano player and Tony the drummer both nodded in agreement.

“OK. I said. Let’s go with Celebration.

We kick it off. And before I have a chance to get to the first “yah-hoo,” the groom sprints up to the stage He was seven inches away from my face, holding up his hand like an angry traffic cop.

“STOP. NOW.”

“You knew the rules.” “I’m not paying you guys.”

The other guys in the band hear, “… not paying you guys,” and instinctively cease and desist all playing, leaving yours truly chunking along, and twisting in the wind.

What is going on?

Suddenly, out of nowhere comes Harry. He tries to quietly talk to the dissatisfied client, whose attitude is rapidly morphing from being “annoyed,” to “loving the attention,” to “… may it please the court…”

The groom reminds our fearless leader that there was a signed contract in effect. That contract stipulated that if Celebration was played, the agreement was void. Sort of like the Van Halen M&Ms thing, I guess.

At this point the frantic bride, her father, his father, Harry, and just about everyone else is trying to calm the guy down. But instead of letting it go, he just gets louder and angrier, shouting about his legal rights and civil liberties. This all goes on for almost five minutes.

By now, as you have correctly deduced, there had been a beverage in his hand during the entire episode. Well, that is, up until about minute four.

That’s when he angrily threw his glass to the floor, causing the drink to splatter up into the air, until gravity did what gravity will do.

Fashion tip: Rum and coke does not pair well with a pristine white wedding gown.

Tears, horror, and general confusion ensued. The groom was led out by a mob of men in rented tuxedos, while the aunties and other women tried their best to console the bride. She kept repeating, “Why… why is he doing this?”

(Earlier in the evening, he had also been that “cake-smash-in the bride’s-face kind of a guy,” in case you or anyone needed additional context.)

The bride’s dad is livid. He tells Harry that he will make sure that the band will be paid and tipped generously if we will please play anything, and play it right now. I tried to apologize to anyone and everyone, but Harry said, “You didn’t know, I forgot to tell you… it’s OK.”

The groom’s father came over and put out his hand. He leaned in, and said in a hushed and sad voice, “He drinks too much sometimes. I’m very sorry.” And that just about broke my heart.

Of the 150+ plus weddings I worked at over the years, I’ve forgotten the details of 98% of them. Not this one.

Gina, wherever you are, I do remember you. I remember you being a very kind and pleasant person.

I hope that life worked out for you, and that you eventually had your share of life’s proper good-time celebrations.

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