First off, weddings here aren't anything like the dozens of weddings (including my own) that I've attended, participated in, cried at, videotaped, drank, danced, sang, slept, ate, and swam at (by accident...long story).
Wedding's in LA are like proms.
You get dressed up. You get your picture taken. You get a sit-down 4-course meal. You get to dance. You get to sit at a round table for 10 with a Chinese style lazy susan in the middle and chuckle at other people doing the chicken dance. You get to make fun of the hard-as-rock dinner rolls. There's always a sentimental final dance, a traditional light-hearted struggle over who will take home the table centerpiece, at which time you grab your lovely parting gifts and head for the valet parking.
LA weddings are great if you are in the wedding party, are close to the wedded couple or their family, or are in desperate need to do the chicken dance.
LA weddings are not great if you barely know the couple, or kinda know them through a friend at work, or are sorta fond of the groom's aunt, who you know through your therapist group. See, we're talking 6-8 hours minimum of a good Saturday, gone because of a familial obligation or some other quasi-emotional obligation to who knows who for who knows what reason.
Okie weddings, on the other hand, are quick and easy and you don't end up investing an entire day/night to attending the affair.
Case in point a wedding we attended a short time ago.
The bride was an ex-intern from S's office. She was a pretty, bright, and cheerful recent college grad, who endeared herself to my wife during her short time as an intern. She was also a sorority sister, and that blood runs pretty deep out here. Both factors combined to provide us with a familial invitation to the blissful event.
We were actually encouraged to bring the girls as well. That was a first for us, since most of the weddings we've been to normally don't include children (at $35-$100 bucks a head, I don't blame them).
So, on went our fancy clothes, and off into the early Oklahoma evening we went.
We regaled in the ceremony, the pomp and circumstance, the pretty dresses and pretty smiles. The girls dug the bagpipist and we all cooed softly at the eurasian flower girl.
Later, at the reception, several well-wishers came up to me and told me many different versions of the following statement:
I didn't have the heart to tell any one of them that my daughter was nowhere near the wedding party at the time, but sitting comfortably and quietly between my wife and I in a side pew on the bride's side.
Besides, PK was way cuter than the flower girl. Just my opinion.