Wedding Number 2 - K1 and B

Well friends, as perhaps I've alluded to, last weekend, I traveled approximately 1500 miles (no, seriously) to wedding number three in four weeks. All I have to say is, thank god for ipods, jimmy johns, and diesel fuel...

Seriously though, who would have thunk any part of Michigan was beautiful? I always associated Michigan with Detroit - Detroit is a craphole, ergo, Michigan is a craphole. Well, scratch that thought, because Traverse City and its associated peninsulas are in fact, quite beautiful. Driving through rolling vineyards and cherry orchards is quite soothing after you've been stuck in mind numbing one lane traffic. Add in a cloudless sky and a brilliant blue lake, and you have the makings of an exceptionally quaint wedding weekend.

Which is completely appropriate, since I was in Traverse City to witness - nay, participate in - the nuptials of my two of my very best friends. Again, from all corners of the midwest, the four manboys converged again, by road and by air. And there was much rejoicing. There was also much merrymaking, though not quite to the level experienced a few weeks previously. All in all, things kept in check, which, all things considered, was probably okay. After all, the wedding was at noon this time...

Anyways, a beautiful ceremony was held in a beautiful yard, attached to a beautiful home, right on the beautiful shores of beautiful Lake Michigan. I think the best word to describe everything would be, hmm, let me think - beautiful. K2 seemed disappointed that I didn't cry, but I thought about it. As my friend stood and said his vows, I was incredibly happy, and couldn't help but beam myself.

Oddly enough, I felt proud - yes, pride is the best descriptor. Not that he wasn't mature to begin with, but here was a man who had matured considerably through the years. In college, I looked up to him as someone who I could live vicariously through. He lived the life, and had the personality, that I often so desperately wanted. Now, I look up to him as one of the few who have found exactly what they want, and made the commitment which is the natural progression of initial desire. I was proud to be the best man of someone like that, much less the friend of someone like that.

Reception after reception followed, and the three manboys not being married at that particular moment stuck together in unity, doing our best to converse politely with the locals. Often, I would get a tap on the shoulder and be asked if I was the "doctor - or wait, are you the physicist?" I would apologize and reply with "No, I'm actually the lawyer," and then watch as a friendly smile would turn to a steely gaze. Not really - that's a lie. But seriously, it's like a bad joke. A doctor, lawyer, physicist, and trombone professor walk into a bar...

Speaking of bad jokes, I also got to unleash my public speaking skills on an unsuspecting public with a carefully practiced PG-13 rated toast. Actually, that's a lie - I pretty much winged it on an outline. Hard not to get some laughs when the climax is four professional students group hugging without pants. No pants, no problem.

Eventually, the three of us were left to our own devices, and took in dinner at a Mexican restaurant and a showing of the movie "Drive." At dinner, we learned that a particular manboy is feeling inadequately masculine, and is looking to learn more "skills" in order to become more of a man. This of course led to a brainstorming session of manly skills to learn, such as bear hunting, kung fu, evasive driving, and home repair skills. Needless to say, the list is ongoing.


Poker skills, anyone?

I could recount everything, but that would be beside the point. Again, I was thankful for good friends, and happy to be amongst a group of men that know and understand me intimately. Some people have wondered whether I regretted it, now that half the manboys are married. I get asked whether something will now be missing - perhaps innocence, perhaps that sense of freeform masculine adventure, perhaps a constant, desperate attempt to relive glory days.

I don't think so though. I enjoy seeing everyone grow up, seeing everyone learn about themselves, the world, and how they fit into it. I don't think real friendship is grounded in a time and place. It seems to me, real friends are adaptable. At least, I think I'll stick with that.

Congrats again.

Voyages

Hello folks. It's always amazing to me, even in this Modern Age, that one can arise in Illinois, and by the end of the day, be relaxing in Minnesota. 500+ hours, gone in the (relative) blink of an eye. Had I been in London, that same amount of distance would have taken me to either Edinburgh or Glasgow, with miles to spare. I think there's a lot of perspective to be gained in voyages like this; I think there's a sense of immensity that we too often forget with our airplanes and future phones.

Because I'm too often accused of being cryptic, I spent last weekend on an adventure of semi-epic proportions. Twin Cities to Iowa City to beautiful (but not quite Twin Cities beautiful) Champaign-Urbana and back again. It was quite a long drive, but I firmly believe that good times and good friends are worth 1100 miles. Plus, I got to catch up on my "This American Life" podcasts. Fantastic.

I can't say I'm too often thrilled to spend 9 hours in a car on any given day, but as I alluded to earlier this summer, there's something cathartic about the open road. Especially when you have a lot of thinking to do. Not that I necessarily did, but endless fields and small towns are conducive to thinking, whether or not that's your intent. Of course, it was much nicer on the leg from Iowa City to Champaign, when I had the pleasure of good company and good conversation. Among the topics: the crisis of modern American masculinity, having work be a part of your person rather than your entire person, many incredibly interesting quips about medicine which I did not understand, and much, much more!

In any event, the countless hours of diesel-fueled fun culminated in yet another Luther College manboy get-together, which I daresay, is the best kind of get-together. The weekend had a severe lack of groan-inducing trombone quartets posted on youtube, but I suppose that was rendered moot by the dual orchestral concerts that we had the pleasure of hearing, featuring Cedar Falls' finest on the bass trombone. In any event, there was exquisite food, expensive beer, morning coffee on a porch, and trophies to commemorate the weekend. Oh yes, and we also channeled our inner viking warrior spirit by drinking mead. Nothing better.

You know, I always used to hate that "manboy" moniker. It was coined via a somewhat legendary short story, the product of a person who had a rather unique, intimate view into our collective friendship. It always seemed so juvenile to me, when, considering some of our college antics, it was probably quite appropriate. At that time, I thought maybe it was a backhanded insult, since I fancied myself a sophisticate. Now, I don't think I mind it so much. Maybe it's my increasing self awareness, but when there are four grown men singing "Mr. Blue Sky" at the top of their lungs at 1 in the morning, "manboy" seems an apt descriptor.

I don't think that's bad either, because I think it's clear from our conversations that most of the time, the four of us work, work, and then work some more, trying to be something or another. It's easy to work at being a lawyer, or a doctor, or a musician, or a physicist. It's not quite as easy to work on being a person of substance, a person who has human connections. If that involves ELO singalongs and nighttime sprinting, so be it. Certainly better than the alternative.

Of course, I was rudely reminded today, as I stumbled through 25 pages of how a mortgagee perfects their assignment of rents, that such revelries are unfortunately, temporary. I used the somewhat misleading metaphor of a caravan going through the desert, stopping at an oasis, and then heading back out into the sand. Like I said, this is misleading, and maybe inappropriate - I don't necessarily think life is akin to a desert. However, with the stresses of school, job searches, women, friends, the general challenges of life; it's pretty important to just stop for a few days, and drink some water. Or, as the case may be, some overpriced beer.