Finally, Proud Papa Has Brand-New Bagger
Tuesday: Four days before we have a real “in” at Ralphs.
I sought the advice of Dodger broadcaster Vin Scully, knowing he has walked three daughters down the aisle, and so I asked if he had been moved to tears.
He began humming, “Here comes the bride,” and it had never crossed my mind that a father giving away his daughter could still have such a happy outlook on life. But then, as far I know, none of his daughters married a Grocery Store Bagger.
“No tears -- my concern was stepping on their dresses,” said Scully, laughing and admitting that his family calls him, “Clouseau,” for his fumbling-bumbling likeness to Peter Sellers’ character.
“It grabs you,” he added. “I remember standing at the back of the church, and the altar looking like it was a million miles away. Try and smile. Whatever you do -- don’t think. You start to do that, this is your little girl and you changed her diapers ... “
Well, there were times when I thought about changing her diapers, but I always figured the wife would be home in a couple of hours.
“You have to forget all the things you did with your daughter,” Scully said, “and put a smile on your face, or you’ll cry. And when you raise her veil, kiss your daughter and turn away -- it’s like OK, pal -- with a wave of a hand you’re gone. You’ll join your wife. She’ll be crying, and you’re going to look at her and it’s going to get you if you don’t put that dumb and dumber look on your face.”
Scully seemed to think I’d have no trouble doing that.
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Wednesday: To pay for all this, I must continue writing Page 2 forever, which is probably not good news for the Dodgers.
I PICKED up dry cleaning at Norton’s in Placentia and found a small bag attached. Inside there was a garter belt for the bride. A USC garter belt. What happened to the old saying, “The customer is always right?”
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IN MY meetings with Salma Hayek, I’ve noticed she’s usually wearing an outfit expressly made for her. So I hired Piedro Avila, an extraordinary talent working at Mark Piscitelli’s men’s store in Pasadena, to make a dress for the wife so she might look like Salma Hayek for a day. I was pretty excited about that, and I didn’t think it was that big of deal asking her to dye her hair black instead of blond as she does all the time anyway. I could tell by her reaction, she probably also wasn’t going to agree to speak with a Spanish accent all night long.
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I LOST the argument. The wife and daughter ordered about $800 worth of white pillowcases to cover new chairs at the wedding reception. I wanted to have someone standing at the door when the guests arrived to ask, “paper or plastic?” before directing them to their seats covered in plastic or paper grocery bags.
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Thursday: The Bagger wants to know if he should start calling me Dad.
I JUST realized the rehearsal dinner is scheduled for Friday, and I’ll miss Foam Finger night at Dodger Stadium. I knew this wedding was a bad idea.
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THE FOLKS at the Catamaran Resort here asked if I’d like an “open bar” at the reception -- as if there’s any other way to meet the Bagger’s relatives.
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BOTH VERSIONS get me. I saw Spencer Tracy’s “Father of the Bride” and dreaded the day I’d have to walk my daughter down the aisle. I wasn’t married at the time, and I can’t be sure it wasn’t one of the lines I used on the wife to get somewhere before we were married, but it stuck with me. I can watch the Steve Martin version only in the dark. The daughter and I spent hours and hours together shooting baskets, and when Martin shoots hoops with his daughter on the driveway the night before she gets married, well, where’s Scully when I need him?
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THE BRIDE & Bagger presented gifts to everyone in the wedding party. The daughter has taken one of our old basketballs and super-glued it to a stand. (Her way of making sure I won’t ask her to practice again, I presume). She has decorated it with pictures of us together. Every father and daughter should share so much.
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Friday: The relatives arrive -- only two more days until they leave.
WE’RE STANDING in the back of the church for rehearsal, and the daughter is sobbing and saying she can’t walk down the aisle. I look to the front and see the Bagger, and can’t blame her. I give her Scully’s advice not to think about the times I waited for her mom to come home and change her diapers, and by the look on her face I could tell she remembered.
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ANDY ASHBY wins on Foam Finger night. The stars really are aligned for wedding weekend. I hope the Bagger bought a lottery ticket.
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Saturday: That’s my little girl -- why is she dressed like that?
We had a pact, a father-daughter deal. We hated Halloween, and while everyone else put on a costume, we refused. So why is she dressed today like a bride? I used to take her to the Broncos’ training camp, and she played with her Barbie stuff. I should never have let her get that Ken doll.
We’re standing together in the back of the church, and I’m thinking there’s no way Scully did this without thinking of every special moment he had with his little girl, including this one. This is it, and it’s overwhelming. She wants to walk slowly. I don’t want to move. But we do.
She’s gorgeous. She’s happy. And you know what, she’s lucky to have found such a wonderful young man. Thank heavens she went to Ralphs that day.
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T.J. Simers can be reached at t.j.simers@latimes.com.
