Planning the wedding was incredibly stressful. My husband and I both come from conservative families, and no one could seem to wrap their minds around a casual wedding in a park where I didn't care about things like bridesmaids or carrying a bouquet. I can't tell you how much my mother and I argued, or how hotly she criticized all my choices. My father regressed into a middle school child and gave me the silent treatment for five months.
So it was no surprise that when my father's best friend offered to play the violin at our wedding, he had no idea what kind of wedding I was having, and my parents couldn't help him. I tried my best to explain it to him, but he didn't get it, either. We eventually agreed that he would play the wedding march. He couldn't make it to the rehearsal, but he was a professional and it would be easy for him to figure out when to start playing, right?
The day of the wedding, the pastor asked the guests to turn their cameras off; a friend of ours would take pictures and we would be happy to share them. My father walked me to the beginning of the aisle. The guests stood up. We waited for the music to start. Nothing happened. I craned my neck to see what was the matter. Instead of holding his violin, my father's friend was TAKING PICTURES. I didn't know what to do. Everyone was staring at me. The pastor clearly had no idea what to do, either. We all stood there like a frozen tableau for a solid minute, until the violinist decided he had enough pictures and started to play. The rest of the wedding went off without a hitch.
Afterwards, my father, mother, and my father's best friend all told me they thought the wedding was going to be a disaster, but they were so surprised when it wasn't!
Also, we have almost no photographs of the reception because our photographer decided he would rather talk to mutual friends than, say, photograph guests. Be careful when you hire friends!