I've always considered myself technology's ambassador, someone who truly believes in its potential. For me, gadgets are must-haves thatbetter our lives and make it a bit more special. That belief was sorely challenged during my wedding reception, when technology failed me.
It was the night before my wedding, and there was still a lot to finish. The ceremonywas scheduled for the next morning, but there were still guest tables to lay out, giveaways to wrap, and an audio-visual presentation to finish. So naturally I lounged around my hotel room with my two best men, as the bride and her family fretted over their share of the last-minute to-dos.
I began compiling pictures for the AVP close to midnight, and only because my best men insisted that I start doing so. Using my dad’s MacBook, turning photos downloaded from Facebook into a catchy slideshow was a simple matter of adding the images in iPhoto, selecting transitions, picking a background song, and putting everything together into a final movie. A task that required an entire day over a decade ago was accomplished in less than an hour. Technology works, QED.
Then came our special day. We exchanged nuptial vows before loved ones without incident, and made our way to the reception venue after a brief photo and video shoot on the church grounds. All of our guests had gone ahead.
Mrs. Mossesgeld was now mine, and I was hers, forever. Her sound judgment was the reason why we let our guests start attacking the buffet tables before we even arrived—a decision we made in the bridal car, and executed through the magic of cell phone coordination.
That choice paid off, as our invitees happily cheered us upon our grand entrance into the hotel ballroom. No sort of hunger muted the acclamation, and my bride and I basked in genuine appreciation.Again, technology works.
It was a blur as guests posed with us for pictorials (we took quick bites between groups).Then it was time to play a video put together by our photography/videography team, Daniel Lei Studios (DLS). The same-day edit was a polished sequence, expressing the emotions that made our wedding so special in an edgy and visual way. Despite featuring high production values, the video was created on laptops in a couple of hours, as the guests ate their lunch. More proof that technology works.
Halfway in however, the video suddenly stopped and the guests were left looking at a black screen. I was later told by the hotel staff that the connection between the laptop containing the video and the ballroom projection equipment was cut for some unknown reason. Our hosts took everything in stride, apologizing for the “technical difficulties” while moving on with the program. Eventually the video was replayed with no trouble.
Finally it was time for the piece de resistance: the AVP I made would be second-to-last, followed only by a thank you speech from Mrs. Mossesgeld and yours truly. The background music I chose, a sampler of Coldplay’s latest album, set an upbeat mood. There was anticipation as the images started filling the projector.
The audio cut out even before the first minute. Again there was something wrong with the laptop. Everyone continued looking at the pictures, but the ballroom was completely silent, save for the few "awwws" the baby pictures produced. Weeks later, my hand still aches from Mrs. Mossesgeld’s nervous vise grip, a by-product of her days as a competitive swimmer.
Yes, everyone at the reception will remember those two “technical difficulties.” But we always hear more about how good the food was (thanks Hotel InterContinental!), how heartfelt the speeches and toasts were, and how happily our parents, families, and friends looked on as we tied the knot and fed each other cake. Many said it was probably the best wedding and reception they attended—welcome relief for our worry that the event would turn out to be a big bore.
Technology left our guests hanging twice, yet our wedding ceremony and reception were still memorable because of the people who made it that way. Best Man A presented me a gift that, in his words, only he can. Best Man 1 entertained everyone with stories of how I used to call my wife “The Enemy” (complete with raised fist… it’s a long story). The Maid of Honor truly wished us a good life together; her genuine happiness was on display.
My dad was his usual verbose self, and my mom’s accidental (but not misguided) attempt to keep his speech short produced laughter. My mother-in-law wowed everyone with her eloquence, while her husband was a man of few words. No matter the method of expression, everyone present felt their hope and love for us.
And you know what? Despite the failures, technology still came through. Several guests posted pictures on Facebook and Picasa, so it was easy to download the photos and compile them. The church and ballroom aircons kept the attendees cool and sweat-free.
Most importantly: the wedding fulfilled a mock prediction recorded in my old Handspring Visor. I wrote down “Marry Diana in 10 years” on my old electronic organizer as a joke, weeks after I first met her in 2002 (Yes, Mrs. Mossesgeld looked beyond my creepiness). I’ll just make sure to test my laptop with the projection equipment next time I have a big presentation.