To begin, we have my old friend Chris, who we first met in our junior year of high school. This is the same Chris who prides himself on his striking resemblance to Yoda and astonishing ability to play Windows Minesweeper better than anyone else on the planet. This is the same Chris who nearly 86ed himself by taking a header off his grandma's roof while shingling a few years back. (After a coma lasting a week or so, he pulled out, and now lives with his spine and skull bolted together by plates and screws of God-only-knows-what kind of alloy.) And this is the same Chris now lives in Dallas where he works security on a sky-scraper. Chris and I were great friends once, drifted apart a bit in college, but still occasionally write each other, most often on the subject of the Denver Broncos. Anyway, last week I got this e-mail:
I really like the draft. We needed firepower on offense really bad, and maybe we got it. The Denver media thinks cutler is Elway's son. Shanny had him pegged higher than Leinhart, so we'll see. I like picking up Jevon Walker. Did you hear Lelie thinks he is a #1 receiver and is not going to report since he is third on the depth chart? I say 'you were useless anyway, so bye.'
Well I have had an eventful few months. Long story short, I'm getting married this Tuesday. Yes, you read that correctly. I met her last December, sparks flew, emotions ran high, and now there is going to be a Mrs. Wright. I'll writer more sometime; I'm at work right now, so I'm kind of borrowing some time, but I'll catch up with you later.
WTF? Chris ... married? And on a Tuesday? Will wonders never cease? Considering this e-mail arrived the Sunday prior, I didn't get much notice for this wedding (which, I guess, has already happened) and therefore don't feel too bad for missing it. Hell, I probably wouldn't have known about it or attended even if I were in Colorado. But still, I like Chris and I wish I could've been there to express my congratulations firsthand. Since I couldn't do that, I hereby officially congratulate him and wish him and his new bride the best of luck.
Chris' Wedding = 5.5
Next is Ryan, an even closer friend, who gets married next weekend. I'll always love Ryan. While driving one time with his fiance to pick up some dinner, Ryan defenestrated an entire bag of cheap Mexican food after learning Taco Bell screwed up his drive-thru order. When Gina asked Ryan why the hell he did that, and why he didn't simply go back to the restaurant to get it fixed, Ryan just glared ahead at the road and coldly told her, "That's not the way I do things." How fucking awesome is that? It's that unshakable adherence to a mysterious, inarticulable code that I admire about Ryan. He's hardcore, and always will be. Last year, when Ryan told me of the wedding, he asked me to stand in it. I've always felt real torn up about having to say no.
Ryan's Wedding = 11
And, of course, we have Matt's wedding--one week after Ryan's! I really don't know what to say about Matt... except for this: he once promised to see Starship Troopers with me, then saw it without me. I was crushed, and had to lock myself in my bedroom for weeks to hide my grief. It took me several long years to get over that, but the reliable goodness of Matt's character has made this forgiveness somewhat possible. As a result, I've placed him on a kind of "friendship probation" for the past few years, and that's where he'll stay until he reads A Game of Thrones. In all seriousness, Matt's the best kind of friend I could have, and his family's been wonderful to me. (They even gave me a laundry basket!) His dad, a kind-hearted mustachioed codger, recently got quite sick, and had major emergency surgery performed on his liver. Luckily, he's doing well now and will likely make the wedding. I wish I could be there to shake Matt's dad's hand, and Matt's hand too. Matt asked me to stand for him as well, and once again I feel awful I can't be there.
Matt's Wedding = 11
And that's it for my friends. Supposedly, my brother is also getting married next week. He's only two years older than I, and growing up he was both the stick I would never measure up to and the stick which regularly pummelled me and poked me in the eye. As a brother, he certainly has his faults (as do I), but he's a good and devoted son and will likely honor my parents with multiple grandchildren. I often think about his wedding and dream about what it will be like--probably expensive with giraffes and dinosaurs and special guest star David Blaine, and lots and lots of relatives coming from all over the country. Attending would be interesting, but probably awkward and uncomfortable (to say the least) so I don't feel too guilty about not going. However, for some messed up reason, my general lack of guilt makes me feel even guiltier, adding a couple points to the guilt-o-meter. He is, after all, my brother, counterpart progeny from the same set of parents, and I did grow up with him...
Brother's Wedding = 4
And there you have it. Weddings of 2006. Maybe it'll be me getting married someday (hardy-har: Chris and I used to laugh at the prospect of either of us ever getting married) and, if it does happen, I hope my friends will be better to me than I'm being to them and actually attend. It's strange that all these people I know so well are doing the kinds of things that we always wondered if we'd someday do. But a nice kind of strange: mostly warm-hearted and fuzzy feelings slightly tainted by scattered steaming piles of guilt and regret.
Please forgive me, friends. As a token of my remorse, please accept this nice CG picture of Wolverine.
Bub.
2 comments:
NOW who's the sentimental and nostalgic one!?
Don't worry. Errol and I aren't anywhere close to marriage -- to each other nor anyone else.
~Z :-)
Are you reporting a violation of the no-sentimentality rule? Uh-oh. I hope it's more separation anxiety than nostalgia, but who knows...I may yet overtake you as the soft-hearted one. Anyway, thanks for the comment, and don't be so quick to dismiss a future with Errol. I really see potential in that relationship.
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