Tradition’s a funny thing. Sometimes you do it just because it feels right. And other times you do it because you feel the tug of obligation. Whatever the reason, traditions come from somewhere and, in this instance, asking for your father-in-law’s permission (or blessing these days) to get married has a dark origin story.
Pardon the mansplaining but indulge me for a moment...
Growing up in suburban New Jersey only a stone’s throw away from New York City, I wasn’t quite lacking in rhythm per se; rather, like any skill, practice makes perfect. And unfortunately, I’d absentmindedly left my well-practiced dance skills in my mid-20s. They’re probably still sitting there, jamming out to LMFAO’s “Sexy and I Know It,”…
As the guests filed into a long hall adjacent to the brick patio, they quickly took their seats. The wine had begun to flow and the din of longtime friends and close family sent an electric buzz throughout the room. Soon, the emcee corralled the last of the stragglers, and two lucky guests were given the honors to speak. First, the groom’s brother…
