Meet the Mormons…. Marriage in Utah, when you're an Ain't, instead of a Saint

You know that movie, Meet the Fockers? The one that comes after Meet the Parents? Well, today we are going to discuss MEET THE MORMONS.

First of all, getting married is stressful. Let me just tell you. Getting married around MORMONS is even more stressful because:

1. You get temple marriage lectures

2. You get temple marriage lectures from people you THOUGHT had figured out years before that you did NOT believe what they believed, and you would sooner carve your eyes out with a spoon then visit the temple in baker’s hats and fig leaf aprons

3. You get to hear about your patriarchal blessings, which you always gave as much weight as a Chinese fortune cookie and have absolutely NO memory of participating in. Although I suppose you don’t really participate. You just sit there while some guy puts his hands on your head and jabbers and some lady writes it down, or records it, and then you get a copy. And it means a LOT to certain other people. Just not you

4. Even though YOU would rather have heard, “You will have eternal happiness IN BED,” that not what a patriarchal blessing says (except maybe for the “eternal” part)

5. Don’t you think it would be interesting to put “In bed” at the end of every patriarchal blessing, just like you do fortune cookies? (Hey, I didn’t come up with the idea, folks. Don’t blame me. Well, at least for the fortune cookies.)

6. Have I ever mentioned I think patriarchy is stupid, and leads to men being pompous, smug, arrogant, assholes, even when you know that they would secretly chuckle if you said “in bed” at the end of every sentence of your patriarchal blessing. At what point did someone say, “Now you have the priesthood, you have to be an arrogant, pompous jackass.” Is that in patriarchal blessings? It probably should be.

7. Certain  odd neighbors of your in-laws and parents consider it a Mormon right to be invited to EVERY wedding that takes place within a 50-mile radius, especially if they KNOW you, your intended, your family, etc. These people WILL invite themselves to your wedding, and will proudly tell people they invited themselves to your wedding. With no shame. I can’t wait to see the gift. And the certain odd neighbor will be bringing her grumpy, anti-social husband, a man who was sent home from his Mormon mission because he couldn’t get along with anyone. Apparently, the only one he gets along with is his wife, and I suspect this is BECAUSE she doesn’t hear a word he says or really even notice he’s there. She’s created her own reality and we are all just living in it. He, on the other hand, raises flags at the top of his trees, wants to start his own country, and has terrified generations of neighborhood children. We feel truly blessed that he will be sharing our special day with us. I’m trying to convince Birdman NOT to carry a gun.

8. You have to borrow metal folding chairs from all your relatives, and when you look at the bottom, you notice they all say “Such and such a ward” and you are left to wonder if all Mormons are secretly stealing folding chairs from the ward house. And if so, why? Is this acceptable behavior? If I were going to steal something, it would NOT be a metal folding chair

9. Is the Mormon church like the Army, where things go missing, and no one figures out where they went to because they were “appropriated” by some other needy Mormon personage, and so they just go and “appropriate” their own folding chairs?

10. Does the Mormon Church own stock in a folding chair company somewhere?

11. Back to the odd neighbor, will there by anarchy in the two wards when they realized that someone not close to either THE BRIDE or the GROOM invited themselves to the wedding?

12. Why do you have to invite the entire ward to Mormon receptions?

13. Has anyone else noticed there is a great dearth of Native American spiritual advisers in Utah?

14. If one more person suggests I serve Hawaiian haystacks at my wedding, I might have to borrow Birdman’s gun. As you can see here:

A Hawaiian Haystack (also known as a Chicken Sundae) is a convenience cuisine. The dish did not originate in Hawaii, but derives its name from the Hawaiian character of pineapple, a staple ingredient. It is popular in the western U.S. both as a school lunch and as a quick, creative meal for family dinners.

This has nothing to do with Hawaii. Therefore, there will be no haystacks.

That’s all for now. I’m sure tomorrow will bring more exciting wedding details.


About Natalie R. Collins

Natalie has more than 30 years writing, editing, proofreading and design experience. She has written 20 books (and counting), has worked for the Sundance Film Festival, and as an investigative journalist, editor, and proofreader. She embraces her gypsy-heart and is following her new free-thinking journey through life. Follow her as she starts over and learns a bunch of life's lessons--some the hard way.
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13 Responses to Meet the Mormons…. Marriage in Utah, when you're an Ain't, instead of a Saint

  1. birdman says:

    And this is just the beginning…I could tell her stories about the odd nieghbor that would fill her blog for the next six months…


  2. Cele says:

    OH I think the odd Native Spiritual advisor would be just the thing to spice up your wedding event. Did I ever tell you about the wedding I went to in the surf? It’s priceless, though I’m not sure they really did get married. The joint in one and and the beer in the hand of the “official” kind of confused me.


  3. Tracy says:

    I will gladly give you numbers 1 through 13, but damn, i love me some hawaiian haystacks. no one i have ever met who did not grow up in utah knows what they are, but still, i would eat the hell out of one right now…don’t judge me.

    that out of the way, if you need more folding chairs, i am pretty sure i could round up a thousand or so at a moments notice.



  4. Jenn says:

    Tracy: I grew up in Utah and I have no idea what they are. Granted, I’ve been gone for 14 years. Ahhh, it’s so nice to say that.

    In the meantime, I googled HH’s to figure out what the hell.

    Cheese, pineapple and gravy?

    No thanks.

    All the best, Natalie and Birdman. May you get through this with your sanity intact.

    And then have many happy years together.


  5. sandra says:

    hi your article is wrong and very inaccurate…what a shame you haven’t been able to gain the blessings of being a latter day saint it is an amazing adventure so far 30 yrs on happily married thorugh the temple and 5 kids later…the church has blessed my life more than youll ever know…..


  6. Todd D says:

    Regarding Patriachial blessings, I have a 3 page one I received before I went on my mission. I couldn’t avoid getting one any more than I could have chosen to not serve a mission. It never seemed to pertain to me, and the “promises of blessings” were not things I wanted then or would want now. Mostly I laugh now because the one thing I do recall to this day was that throughout my blessing, the patriarch called me Scott. Every time he addressed me during the blessing, he would say the name Scott. His wife changed all the Scott’s to Todd’s when she typed it up and nothing was ever said about it. Maybe I got someone named Scott’s blessing by mistake and somewhere there is a Scott who was promised a handsome and loving boyfriend… OK, maybe not that last part. 🙂


  7. Donna says:

    OMG. Patriachial blessings. Before I left the church, I thought they were so awesome. But then I sat with my older son while he got his, and then my younger son, while he got his, from the same guy. Their blessings were almost the same. Which either meant that my sons were rotten and he just went with the “standard” form, or they were never going to be worthy young men of the gospel. All 3 of my kids have since left the church also.

    So some of you, that are behind the iron curtain, think for yourselves. Don’t be cowed by your parents, and grandparents. If you research it all yourself and still believe, awesome, but at least don’t say you think it is true because that is what you have been taught to say.

    Birdman, I would love to hear more about the odd neighbor. Spill it. 🙂


  8. Dear Sandra,

    It’s not an article, it’s a blog. Sheesh. Get it right. You can take your blessings and…. uh, ENJOY them. You don’t get it. You never will.

    Todd…. ROFLMAO.


  9. azteclady says:

    This is why when I get married again (which is happening sometime in the next couple of years, go us!) not one person will be invited or present–up to and including his kid and my children.

    It’s not about them, it’s about us, and we can both do without other people’s crap.

    (I remember my first wedding a bit too well, frankly)

    I hope we will get a report back after the day 😀


  10. birdman says:

    Not spilling on the odd neighbor…not unless I get total amnesty, change my name and go in the witness protection program…her husband is a little mentally off…as a matter of fact, I once looked into my parents backyard to see why my dog was barking its fool head off and there stood Mr odd neighbor, throwing rocks at my dog cause it was barking at him…I stepped out and told him to stop, and he threw the next little rock at me…so I sent the dog after him…what else could I do?? You’ve never seen someone run back into their house so quick as when that dog cleared the 6 ft chainlink fence…but, I digress…no odd neighbor stories, Natalie can tell them…


  11. Dr. Shades says:

    Dear Natalie:

    Oh, no! I had no idea that you had gotten divorced. I’m sorry to hear that. It seems like just yesterday that I was reading a blog entry of yours wherein you mentioned that your husband and sons seemed to think that farting was an olympic event. 🙂

    My, how time flies.

    I wish you all the best and hope that marriage #2 works out wonderfully.

    –“Dr. Shades”

    P.S. You’re a fantastic writer.


  12. No green jello salad and red punch? You really are an apostate.


  13. Cara says:

    Oh that susan comment cracked me up, But what I was going to say was…I almost made hawaiian haystacks tonight for dinner! I think they are damn delicious. But alas, pizza delivered was requested. Poor me. I couldn’t cook!

    I was lucky. I lived in a “rich” ward in high school (thanks stepdad). I made out like a bandit at my wedding. 🙂


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