(There might be a few embellishments. My memory isn’t perfect.)
As Christine and I prepared for our first dance, we took our place on the makeshift dance floor and waited. She in her wedding dress, and I in my rented tux. But the dramatic pause went on for too long–little did we know that something had gone wrong in our planning–no one was manning the music station. My friend Andrew intrepidly took action, moving like a blur, pushing aside confused guests he got the computer hooked up and ready to play our music.
Christine and I smiled. Our first dance was going to be to The Beatles’s Something.
We waited. I looked over at Andrew with raised eyebrows. Surely he had heard me.
“No. No. Not just anything. Something. By the Beatles. Obviously.”
At last, understanding dawned on me and my wife and I laughed at our “Who’s on First” moment.
“Sorry, Andrew,” I said, noticing he wasn’t laughing, “just play Something by the Beatles.”
“So…any song by the Beatles?”
“No! Not just anything–Something!“
Andrew reached out with both hands and made a choking motion.
Eventually we untangled our rhetorical knot, danced our first dance, and laughed about the trial we had put Andrew through. That was nine years ago; this morning, one of the first things my wife heard was me pulling up Spotify and playing Something.
Which is a song by the Beatles.