WorldNetDaily: Bride-to-be bombshell!

Specifically, Jennifer Wilbanks got cold feet, skipped town without telling anyone, cut her hair short, and must have hidden a stash of clothes somewhere along her jogging route. Police found clippings from her hair and the clothes she disappeared in.

From Duluth, GA, she got on a bus to Las Vegas, and then got on another bus to Albuquerque. There she called 911 and told the cops that a man and a woman had abducted her and taken her on a long road trip by car. She even told that story to the FBI. But now she has admitted that she got cold feet.

She's lucky that the cops in Albuquerque, not to mention the FBI, aren't charging her with filing false crime reports. Skipping town wasn't a criminal matter (though she's also lucky that the cops won't proceed against her to recover the costs of a criminal investigation and search). But lying to the police, and especially the FBI, is. The only reason why the authorities will not proceed against her is that that would cost more than it's worth and make for bad public relations.

The speculative comments are already rolling in to the Fox News Channel. (Isn't e-mail wonderful? Instant Letters to the Anchorman and Managing Editor!) I've heard from many who express their sympathy with the girl, not because she has fallen out of love with her intended (though she might have, and no one wants to admit it), but because the wedding plans had snowballed. Six hundred invitations, fourteen bridesmaid and usher pairs--who did the bride's family think they were--the aedili curules of Gwinnett County (where Duluth is located)? A wedding is not supposed to be a series of public games! Yet how often do we plan big weddings, whether out of sheer vanity or because after you invite one circle of family and friends, now you have to invite the next circle, and the next, and the next. And people wonder why wedding planning is so daunting. Far be it for me to tell another couple how to celebrate their wedding, but my idea of wedding is a short guest list--one hundred fifty guests, tops--along with best man, maid (or matron) of honor, three each ushers and bridesmaids (or bridesmatrons or any combination), and a church with a fellowship hall so that people don't have to jump in their cars and drive across town to some swanky hotel where even the guests have to play dress-up just to impress the staff. And at the reception, one dance between bride and groom, and background music (emphasis on background) so that people can get together and chat. It's called "don't go overboard."

But others have hinted darkly that mere cold feet doesn't explain it all. Does she still love her intended? What must he be feeling, now that he knows the true reason for her disappearance? A runaway bride is supposed to happen only in the movies--some good (like It Happened One Night with Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert) and some goofy. It's not supposed to happen to--well, to any groom to whom it actually does happen.

Add to it that both families have shoulder-rubbing privileges with major public officials, including the Mayor of Duluth who knows the groom's family very well, and you have a case that no soap-opera story consultant would dare develop on her own. But now you can predict with ninety-five-percent confidence that the soapy towns of "Oakdale" and "Springfield" will have similar stories happening there. The CEO of Procter and Gamble must be drooling right now--a great story idea, and in the public domain, too. Folks, it doesn't get any better than that--or any worse.