I lost a very close friend to marriage last month. And for those of you who have yet to experience a REALLY good friend’s wedding, it’s a lot different than an uncle’s or distant cousin’s wedding or something like that. It’s kinda really sad to know I’ll never see Kevin again, but at the same time it’s uplifting realizing that it wasn’t me that it happened to. Joe, Mike and I flew out to Portland to see him off. The wedding was fairly uneventful for the most part. Well, uneventful in the respect that the entire ceremony was possibly the biggest event in the lives of at least 2 people, but you probably know what I mean. At any rate, standard stuff, angelic music, lots of flash photography, long white dress, etc. And Kevin almost made it through the entire thing. They did the I do thing and on their way out, Kevin looked at his mom and started crying. We happened to be seated right behind his mom. My theory is that he actually saw us, knew it was too late for him to turn back now, and started crying out of jealousy of our freedom. Or something like that. Or maybe the wedgie he couldn’t pick for the whole hour finally got too much for him to bare. At any rate, I won’t be walking the plank for a long time, I’ll tell you all that much.
I do have one serious critique about the whole process, however. His best man was his brother, Erick. That’s not the critique. But the best man has in my opinion, two MAJOR responsibilities. Making sure he remembers the ring, and throwing a kick-ass bachelor party the last day before dying. Well, come the night before the wedding, there was nothing. What the hell is that? Erick wasn’t even around. Me, Mike and Joe went out and got beer and played cards with him. Not much of a bachelor party, but we didn’t know any strippers in Oregon. Or any girls for that matter. Now I said it then, but I’ll say it again to everybody. I told Mike and Joe that I don’t have a brother (which they already knew), so in all likelihood, one of them or Tony will be my best man. So don’t fuck it up! I’m counting on you not to let me down here. If necessary, I’ll hire a best man based on who I think will throw the best bachelor party for me. I think I still have Greg Norris’ phone number somewhere. No, seriously, I think the bachelor party should be one last yee-haa of being single and it should last a whole week. Everybody got that? And I’ll be disappointed if I don’t get embarrassed in the best man toast at the reception. I may change my mind about that one. But not the stripper idea or some relatively equivocal replacement.
Kevin did do one good thing for us all. He knew his 3 single friends were flying a couple thousand miles to see him for an entire week, so he did what any self-respecting friend would do in such a case. He tried to set us up with different girls out there. He was telling me on the phone that the girl he found for Mike was a short waitress with nice… personalities, and the girl he had for Joe was a tall, blond, drop-dead-gorgeous stewardess…
“and yours is… really funny.”
-The married guy formerly known as Kevin
Gee thanks. She’s probably very punctual too. How’s her grammar?
Single and doing it wrong,
Still Stranded Right Here…