A note of introduction: One of our local newspapers, The Arvada Curmudgeon, recently decided to add a weddings column to its repertoire of "swap-n-shops" and huffy letters to the editor. In my opinion, Arvada has been too long without sensitive and thorough reporting of our citizens' nuptials. If you, my dearies, are content with the piffle that currently passes for the wedding column in the Arvada Press, then your own wedding reception most probably consisted of a bottle of Strawberry Ripple and some Cheez Puffs. You probably wore your best pair of sneakers. You probably sent out e-invites. But enough, mes amis. I, myself, was honored to accept this assignment and reprint my endeavors here as a service to the community. Hoverson and Strauss Suzette Hoverson has always felt an attraction to the debonair gentlemen of classic cinema and literature. Indeed, in high school, she was convinced that she would marry Cary Grant. "Of course, there was the age thing, but no one in my class even came close to his sophistication," she confided once to the author. "They thought that if they discussed the laws of the Jedi [from the popular "Star Wars" series of films], they were going pretty deep." After graduating from Arvada High School, Ms. Hoverson searched for a way to bring more beauty to her surroundings and found her niche in the thrilling world of textile design. She initiated Arvada's very own Crafts Crisis Hotline, saving many a failed sweater from the dustbin (they make great trivets!). She was serving as a crafts consultant at the Arvada Hancock Fabrics when she first spotted Mr. Strauss, who was assisting his great-aunt. "Jah, Suzette thought I was only the small potato," says Mr. Strauss, in his charming Continental accent. Their first meeting was a little awkward and distracted, as workplace meetings can be, but Mr. Strauss admits to an attraction from the first moment. He saw a hard-working and knowledgeable young woman who did not ask annoying questions about his lederhosen. Indeed, Ms. Hoverson believed Mr. Strauss to be a visitor from a far-off land, not realizing that his European flair came from only one side of his family. On his mother's side, Mr. Strauss comes from Arvada pioneer stock. His great-great-great-great-grandfather was Sydney Sykes, the business partner of our very own town founder. His life has been divided between Arvada and Munich, Germany, which gives him a worldly and thoughtful perspective on local events. Mr. Strauss enjoys a busy career as a systems analyst for one of our fine local companies. He is also the town expert when it comes to Goethe, sauerbraten and whittling. "Frederick even whittled the figures on our wedding cake (which, by the way, had lemon filling and was decorated by Mrs. Cole's of Arvada), isn't he a darling," gushed the beaming bride. Friends of the couple admit that their crafty ways can be a little overwhelming. "My God," said one Mrs. Taffy Ash. "Visiting their house is a little like being dragged through the 4-H tent at the county fair. But don't mind me. I just had a kid, so I'm cranky and tired." Ms. Hoverson and Mr. Strauss opted for a simple and elegant ceremony and reception at the home of Mrs. Strauss, the beloved great-aunt who brought these two together. Initially, it had been hoped that the usually temperate Colorado weather would prevail, and the guests would be able to mill around in Mrs. Strauss's garden, but snow drove the party indoors. Amidst the holiday cheer of friends, a twinkling tannenbaum and the fragrance of Teutonic pastries, Ms. Hoverson and Mr. Strauss exchanged their vows. The Reverend Dwight Del Rio pronounced them man and wife and exhorted them to live a loving and creative life together. It was only while the guests were enjoying coffee and pastries in the living room that something untoward occurred. The groom went to answer the doorbell and was knocked down with a carcass of a stag. Mr. Strauss only sustained a few minor scrapes and bruises, but the entire company was up in arms against the prankster, who escaped before he could be identified. But with his customary good humor, Mr. Strauss set the deer aside and re-joined the party, while his new bride patched up his wounds. The party, like the rest of life, must go on.
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