This past week one of my dear friends from college got married. It was, as all wedding should be, a wonderful celebration. But, as with all weddings and funerals, it has caused some self indulgent retrospection. Sorry if some of this is a bit melodramatic, but what good is self indulgent retrospective if it can’t be a little over the top. Things I (re)realized (in no particular order):
1) It is a wonderful thing to be at a wedding of two people who are getting married for all the right reasons. My boy cried last week as he was saying his vows. It was really cool.
2) With the possible exception of my own wedding I will never be in another wedding, and I will never be the best man at a wedding. Not that I mourn either of these facts. They are just that facts. I wonder if it is a reasonable way to keep score, the number of weddings one is in. Not that we or anyone is keeping score, or that it would be healthy to do so. But at some point you ask what a man’s life is worth. How you are connected to others is part of that. Is it possible to have meaningful connections when spend most of your life passing through?
3) It is still culturally unacceptable to be 30 years old and single. It is amazing how many times in the last month people have tried to set me, or the second or third question out of their mouth is about my personal life. I am flattered people care, and understand that when others are trying to fix me up, it is only because they want the best for me. When I explain, that for now I am a pilgrim and where I need to be, I can almost see in their eyes disbelief. “What is wrong with him?” “What is he running from?”
4) It is much easier to go against the gain when you are doing it. When I am in the midst of my wacky daily life, nothing could be more natural. The life I live makes perfect sense to me. When I step out of that life is when it gets weird. I found myself at the wedding catching up with a bunch of old college friends who are teachers, and lawyers, and physical therapists, and parents, and homeowners. Standing next to them I feel like a baffon. It reminds me of the time I saw a clown drive by me on the interstate in a minivan. He looked so out of place. So unnatural. In the middle the big top he looks right at home, in the bright light of day he looks like a cartoon. There is a set of paintings by Picaso of circus performers, but none of them are of performance. Instead they are of them just off stage, still in costume, getting ready to load up. They all look so acuward and out of place. Its fine to be a clown in the circus, it just feels weird being the clown surrounded by adults at a cocktail party.

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