I suspected trouble when I accepted responsibility for something I had no control over. There was a 50/50 chance of either being the hero or the whipping boy. 

I didn’t care for those odds, but I couldn’t change them.

It all started when a friend of the family asked me to help make sure that the sound for his wedding didn’t ruin the ceremony. 

The catch was that I wasn’t handling the sound - his cousin, the part-time DJ, had that job.

I’m not sure if he asked me because he respects my experience, or because he was afraid Cousin DJ would do something to cause the bride to cry. 

I prefer to think it was the former, and so chose not to ask for clarification.

Enter the rehearsal. Cousin DJ showed up at the outdoor location with a small powered mixer and a single loudspeaker, but forgot the adapter to patch in his laptop. 

Fortunately, someone had an iPod and dock with speakers; at least we managed to get playback, tinny as it was.

So the rehearsal was a waste, but we’d be able to make it up before the ceremony since Cousin DJ likes to show up two hours early to get everything setup and checked (paraphrased). Plenty of time to set up and prove the system, as well as soundcheck the guitarist/singer.

Come wedding day, Cousin DJ arrives 40 minutes before the ceremony is scheduled to start. Only 80 minutes late, but hey, at least he brought his trusty sidekick.

I already had power waiting, a condenser microphone ready for the acoustic guitar, and when they pulled up, I helped muscle the gear into place. 

But once this was done, things changed.

Immediately it became obvious that Cousin DJ and trusty sidekick had a “method” all their own -  and I was an outsider. 

I didn’t fight it. After all, the day wasn’t about me.

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