I Do

Who would have thought that two little words would fill me with such dread and antipathy? I mean, they’re just words, right? What can two meaningless words, comprised of only three letters even, possibly wrought to affect me? To be honest, I’m not entirely sure, but I’m still scared of them. Scared out of my commitment fearing mind.

Luckily I’ve been able to avoid that particular phrase all the way up to this point in my life. Many of my friends haven’t been as fortunate (is fortunate the right word there?). My friend Andy got married almost two years ago, Jeremy had already tied the knot by that point, Frank got married this past weekend, and Jim is getting hitched in December (or so he says, that boy is notorious for changing his plans at the last second). I swear my high school buddies are dropping like flies all around me. I’m worried that one day the marriage bug will eventually hit me.

I bring this up because my friend Frank was wed recently. As I previously mentioned, he’s the latest in a long line of high school chums that have bit the dust, so to speak. And seeing how Frank is such an awesome guy (and he really is), I made the trek all the way up to the Land of Mary just to attend the festivities. I just hope he knows the seriousness of dragging me across two states just to watch his bachelorhood get buried. I mean, taking the time out of my schedule to go a frat party 300 miles away is no big deal. But suffering in a car for six hours for the sole purpose of watching a dear friend consign to what I consider to be an inconceivable error? Frank better know how lucky he is to have such a committed friend like me.

There was an upside to the weekend though. Free booze. That’s right, say it with me now, “free booze.” Now there are two words that’ll put a smile on my face. It’s a few more letters than the earlier scriptural pairing, but I think it has a much warmer, more soothing feel to it. Coincidentally, the alcohol itself tends to make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. And I’m pretty sure everyone likes to feel warm and fuzzy. But, as I alluded to earlier, this was no frat party, this was a wedding. I had to be on my best behavior… or rather, what passes as my best behavior after five or six drinks in an unfamiliar local.

Luckily there was an even more important reason to imbibe this weekend besides the fact that it was a wedding and there was alcohol aplenty… and the fact that I pretty much drink whenever I can get the chance… and well, do I really need a reason to drink? Frank made sure to have in attendance on his wedding day one keg of locally brewed beer and three separate varieties of bottled home brew. Now, for those of you who don’t normally have much to do with the small cap beers, allow me to enlighten you. Local brews are beers brewed locally. I came up with that all by myself, if you can believe it.

Seriously though, local brews are good stuff. They’re usually restaurants or small breweries that distribute beer only within very regional confines. Some of my favorite beers are made in my home state of North Carolina and only circulated inside its boarders. What can I say? I enjoy helping out the local mom and pop enterprises. And it doesn’t hurt that the breweries around here make some damned fine libations.

But homebrews are a little bit different. If you can’t tell by the word choice there, they’re actually made in a person’s home and are generally not made for profit (I’m just Captain Obvious today, aren’t I?). Homebrewers like to experiment and come up with not only new flavorings in beer, but also to tweak the tastes of existing beers. I’ve only had the pleasure of sampling a few homebrews before, but with a little bit of ingenuity and the right ingredients, I know a dedicated homebrewer can make a pretty good beer. Unfortunately it can get expensive when you factor in the costs of bottles and caps and other beer storage needs.

Frank and some of his friends have been cooking up their own beer for a few years now, and I tasted one of their recipes before and found it quite to my liking. I was especially happy to see that all three homebrews present at the wedding were new to me. In attendance were a raspberry wheat ale, an Irish red, and a rather nice amber. I was determined to try them all since each one seemed intriguing in its own right. My findings are as follows (in order of decreasing awesomeness): The amber beer was very good, as both Frank and Danny (the brewers) had advertised, the Irish red was pleasantly flavorsome and enjoyable, but the raspberry wheat ale I found to be a bit too fruity for my tastes. As a general rule, fruity beer equals not good beer. Well, unless you’re a chick, chicks like fruity stuff.

So I have to say, Frank’s wedding turned out to be an enjoyable event all around. However, this didn’t stop me from attempting to do what I resolutely consider my hallowed responsibility in this life. The night before the wedding, as the rehearsal dinner was winding down, I took Frank to the side and gave him the same advice I try to give every man just before his wedding day: RUN! Run and don’t look back! You know, for some strange reason, people never seem to take my advice. I really don’t know why either.

To his credit, Frank didn’t run. Even when a good family friend who had known his grandfather for many long years gave him the same advice (including offering to foot the bill for a one person plane ticket to the Bahamas), Frank stayed the course. That boy must be in love or something (ever notice how “love” is a four lettered word? I’m just putting that out there). Though in his defense Rosa, his fiancé, seems like a very nice young lady. Fiancé? No, they’re married now, Rosa is his wife. Wow, wife (yet another four letter word, amazing how these things keep piling up, huh?), it’s going to take me some time before I get used to using that word. I still have a hard time remembering to refer to Laura as Andy’s wife, not his girlfriend, and they’ve been married for two years! Sometimes I think I’m not really one of the fastest Hotwheels in the boxed set, if you know what I mean.

So what have we learned today? We learned that it’s okay to get married as long as you brew your own beer for the wedding. We also learned that “love”, “wife”, “girl”, and “commitment” are all four letter words, carrying eerily similar connotations with all those other four lettered words that aren’t exactly conversationally polite (oh, and don’t even try to tell me that “commitment” isn’t a four letter word, you can count all you want, but I’ve spent the better part of my twenty-four year existence proving that one particular obtuse fact, so please, don’t challenge me on this). And finally, we learned that weddings are really just funerals for a man’s single existence and all that he once was. Furthermore, the death of his bachelorhood is the necessary reagent that opens up the possibility of a new beginning of marriage and couplehood. It’s the Circle of Life (hey, I’m pontificating here, it doesn’t happen very often, just go with it). I might also be wise to point out that I’ve learned all I know about life from Disney movies. Go figure.