Nicole, the nearly normal newlywed

Nicole, we've always liked you.

We liked you from the time you first appeared on our shores, all the way from Down Under, in “Dead Calm,” and later in “To Die For” and especially in “Eyes Wide Shut.” (Not so much in “Bewitched,” which must be thought of as a pile of Will Ferrell droppings.  But don't worry, you'll survive that indignity.)

With your statuesque Aussie frame and mane of Titian locks, you've been Hollywood's Miss Perfection for years.  On the personal side, you and Tom seemed like the ideal Hollywood couple, together for almost ten years, a geological epoch by the standards of most celebrity marriages. Then he dumped you! We felt bad, your golden angel wings singed by heartbreak, then he went off with ... and believed a lot of ... and ranted about ... and don't forget ... child bride ... you know what we're talking about.

Now it seems like the best thing that could have happened.  As Tom's gotten more wildly unpredictable, your star has shined ever so much more brightly, as you've perched saintly, angelically above it all.

In the intervening years, we've watched as you dallied with Lenny Kravitz and Steve Bing, but those never felt like fully realized relationships. Now you've married country star Keith Urban, and this time your wedding wasn't like the last time, when your marriage ceremony with Tom took place under secretive, off-shore circumstances.  No, this time it was all in the open. 

You said you wanted a quiet, “normal” wedding, but how could that be?  Not when you're the queen of Australia.  Your wedding caused a whole nation to come to a complete standstill.  It was the worst-kept secret in town.  Even the appearance of the Socceroos in the World Cup couldn't compete.

Define ‘normal’
When your spokesperson, Wendy Day, said of you, "She didn't want anything strange or odd or underhand about this, no black umbrellas or tinted windows," it was true, all true.  Nothing underhanded, just thousands of commoners lining the streets of Sydney to watch your convoy of cream-colored Rolls escort you to your wedding ceremony.  Security and police personnel rolling out in numbers reminiscent of a state visit.  Helicopters buzzing overhead.  The slightest wave from your delicate fingers sent your subjects into paroxysms of delight.  A thousand candles burnt down to stubs, thousands of pink and white roses sacrificed themselves for your wedding.

The only teeny-tiny hitch came in the morning when you tried on your Balenciaga lace-and-chiffon wedding dress and found it a teeny-tiny bit too tight.  Oh, but there are haute-couture designers on call for emergencies such as that!

Slide show   Wedding bells for Kidman Actress Nicole Kidman and country music star Keith Urban tie the knot.

For you, there was none of the crazy, low-rent usual celebrity wedding nonsense, like Vince Neil getting MC Hammer to officiate his nuptials, or Britney Spears' wedding to K-Fed with “pimps and maids” track suits for the guests, or crazy paparazzi taking unauthorized pictures, like with Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones.  In fact, when paparazzi camped outside your house a few days before the blessed event, you and Keith did not drive them away, but rather extended the hand of friendship and gave them a case of Victoria Bitter beer, in a goodwill gesture worthy of Mother Teresa.

Of course, it was nice that the Catholic Church reportedly annulled away your marriage to Tom Cruise, so you could marry again in a church.

OK, your brand-new geetar-pickin' virtuoso husband (who almost matches you in height) has a few inner demons of his own, like coke addiction, which he's supposedly beaten.  But how's a person supposed to write country songs without a few severe emotional and physical problems to lament?  (Look at Johnny Cash and his pill-popping days.)  So you made Mr. Kidman sign a pre-nuptial agreement that forces him to stay clean and sober — to the tune of an incentive bonus of $600,000 for every year the marriage lasts.  And you've got yourself an out clause that says you can dump him without a cent if he backslides.  Does that sound like true love talking?  That's just prudent thinking, that's all.

So, Nicole, here's to you!  We're not so crazy about your pairing with Mr. Safe-Choice Kiwi Home-Grown Country-Popster, but we hope you're happy.  Still, we liked you with Lenny Kravitz.

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