That's entertainment

Last Saturday my country ensemble the World's Greatest Lovers were the wedding band at the most stunning wedding locale I've ever seen, an organic farm in Coon Valley, Wis., about 100 miles northeast of Madison. There are beautiful rolling hills in that part of the state, and the farm had a picturesque vineyard and a very lovely pond.

I never did figure out the precise connection, but many of the wedding guests seemed to be involved in the entertainment business, or the circus, or something. The first hint of this: there was lots of ensemble singing during the toasts, as one speaker after another led the group in "Ring of Fire," "You Are My Sunshine," and so forth.

The next development arrived after dinner, as people began juggling, singly and in small groups. But what was truly new and unusual came when it was time for the World's Greatest Lovers to play in the barn where we had set up our equipment. Beforehand, a young man had begged us to do "Tennessee Waltz," and as we started to play it, he and a lady dancing partner appeared on the floor and performed some very elaborate moves. Okay, I thought. Not unheard of.

Then the pair disappeared for a few moments and re-emerged wearing -- wait for it -- stilts. Big tall stilts, with pants. They gamboled about the yard for a few moments, then came to the barn and danced. They were very expert on the stilts, but I sensed disaster. Sure enough, the woman soon went down. A gasp went up from the crowd, but she quickly righted herself and, sensibly, left the dance floor.

By then we had begun to play Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline," and the young man got very excited. He dashed over to me, to the extent that a man on stilts can dash, and urgently conveyed his wish: He wanted to sing with me. I can't really converse when I am singing and playing the guitar, but with my shoulders and eyebrows I tried to express what I was thinking: I'm not sure how this can work, since your mouth is way up there, and mine is way down here, and there is only one microphone.

In the end, he just leaned down a bit and sang in my general direction. I don't know whether anyone could hear him, but the visual effect must have been electrifying.

It was, as drummer Scott Beardsley noted, a first for the WGL.