Exchanging vows is good reason to hit the ice

Kevin Cowherd

Let's say you are wildly, passionately in love and one day your sweetheart - sure, that's an outdated term, but I'm trying to make a point here - comes to you and says: "Let's get married."

Well, you say.

"On Valentine's Day," she says.

February's a little chilly, you say.

"On an ice rink," she says.

An ice rink?

"Standing on skates," she says.

Skates? But I don't even s-

"With 45 other couples," she says.

Forty-five other ... ?

"And the weather's not going to be tops," she says. "It'll be rainy and foggy."

If all this does not cause you to rethink the relationship, maybe you were among the 46 couples who married or renewed vows yesterday at the Inner Harbor Ice Rink at Rash Field.

It was a lovely ceremony, especially if you had an umbrella, which I did, and a space heater, which I would have killed for.

All in all, though, the "Wedding on Ice," sponsored for the fifth year in a row by WLIF Radio (101.9 FM), went off without a snag, except for the guy we thought was having a heart attack, which I'll get to in a moment.

All you needed to get hitched in this non-denominational ceremony was a valid Baltimore marriage license. The skates were provided free of charge, plus each couple received a box of chocolates, movie passes and a bottle of wine.

I felt like calling my wife at work and yelling: "Hon, get on down here! We can make a killing if we re-up!"

Look, people get married in crazier places. They get married in Elvis chapels, they get married while sky-diving, they get married during the seventh-inning stretch at minor league baseball games.

Why not an ice rink?