Carolyn and Wallace got married

In the 1950s Nevada was known for its “quickie” divorces, which were not all that quick back in the day, but quicker than other states. Now, Nevada has developed a cottage industry around weddings. There are stand-alone chapels that offer a myriad of packages. Every major resort has a wedding feature which, more likely than not, includes an Elvis impersonator. 

Of course, I’m not breaking any new ground when I tell you this. I bring it up today to tell you about the first wedding chapel wedding I attended. It happened some 40 years ago. 

My youngest brother Johnny sent word to the family that he had met a girl in Prescott, Arizona by the name of Carolyn, and they were going to get married in Las Vegas.

So, we showed up at the appointed time to one of those cutesy wedding chapels in Las Vegas. The minister, who sounded like Wolfman Jack and looked like he also worked as an Elvis impersonator, bid the wedding party to be seated so the ceremony could begin. 

He turned to Carolyn and said:

“Margaret, do you take this man to be your husband?”

She quietly said “yes.” 

Wolfman Jack then turned to my brother John and said:

“Wallace, do you take this woman to be your wife?” 

He also said “yes” to which the Wolfman growled them into holy wedlock. 

I asked John why he didn’t speak up about the mixup in names. He said he thought “Margaret” might be Carolyn’s middle name. 

“But, you do know that your name is not ‘Wallace,’ right,” I replied.

He looked at me like a bothersome older brother, shrugged acknowledgement, and made his way to his wife. Love towers over names, I guess.

Anyway, I talked to the Rev. Mr. Wolfman and told him about the mistake. He looked at his note cards and said he mixed up John and Carolyn with the next wedding party, which, he pointed out, was now at the door. 

“Well, is the marriage legit,” I asked.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, “it’s good.” 

And that’s how John and Carolyn — now referred to at family gatherings as Margaret and Wallace — got married. 

BIDEN’S STAMINA

I leave the Memorial Day weekend convinced more than ever that Democratic Party insiders have gotta be plotting an exit for frail Joe Biden from the 2024 presidential race. 

I know, it’s pretty late to switch. But, the end of May had to be a turning point.

Mr. Biden appeared in the White House with an African foreign leader for about 30 minutes. It was an easy gig. Yet, Mr. Biden looked exhausted. He mumbled answers. His eyes stared blankly into space. 

“Listless” would be a generous description. 

To make it seem worse, Donald Trump held a big rally in the Bronx a few hours later. He wowed a large crowd — many of them Democrats — for 90 minutes. He smiled, joked and entertained. You could tell he dug every minute of it. It was fun for him. 

Look, I’m not saying anything about the policy merits of either candidate. We remain a divided nation on key issues. I’m only pointing out the energy gap between the two presumed standard bearers. 

Can Mr. Biden overtake Mr. Trump’s current lead in the polls without vigorously taking his message to the nation? For example, Mr. Biden is down by 12+ points in Nevada. Does this mean we’ll see the president in Ely for the August horse races? 

Hell, no. If he tried to up his campaign game like that, it would exhaust him. Might even kill him.

Hey, don’t howl at me for suggesting what every Democratic insider must be thinking now, which is: 

“Does our candidate have the stamina?”

ONE MORE THING

– Old age is always 15 years older than I am. 

(Sherman R. Frederick is a longtime journalist and a member of the Nevada Press Association Hall of Fame. You can read more of his work at shermanfrederick.substack.com/.)