and may your first child be a masculine child

My very good friends Bobby and Claire got married by my friend Christine this past Saturday at the Tower Hill Botanical Garden in distant Boylston, MA. I snagged a last-minute invite to this exclusive party, so I dusted off my nicest suit and carpooled out with Bob and Mia.


  • “Marriage,” Christine began. “Marriage is what brings us together today. Marriage, that blessed arrangement, that dream within a dream …” I had been privy to this secret for about a year and shared Christine’s delight that everyone got it within a sentence or two.

  • IB Musician Adam Brooks heralded Bobby down the aisle to the Indiana Jones theme and heralded the married couple out to the Ghostbusters theme.

  • Bobby’s voice grew a little hoarse as he read his vows, and a small plane passing overhead made it impossible to hear him. “Louder!” someone yelled from the back. “This is probably the first time in my life when I’m not projecting,” Bobby sighed.

  • Open bar!

  • Bobby’s gift to the wedding party: three-foot high foam puppets of each of them. The similarity frightened me in every instance.

  • Claire’s dad gave an entertaining and moving speech, to be sure, but Bobby’s high school buddy Frank stole the show. “Claire, you look more stunning than the day I met you,” he said during the toast. “Which was yesterday, so …”

  • Open bar!

  • Blake tried to drag me on to the dance floor prematurely (I’ll go when I’m good and ready, thank you). He grabbed me by the hands before he realized what he was doing. “Don’t break my wrists,” he said.

    “I can’t!”

    “No, you totally could.”

    “No, I can’t do jiu-jitsu on the day of my friend’s wedding. It’s a Sicilian tradition.”

  • Appetizers included saucy meatballs with little pretzel sticks in them and an extensive cheese tray.

  • I did get up to dance eventually, in a variety of vogues, vamps and dance-offs with everyone in attendance. Embarrassing pictures may surface. At one point, however, the entire IB contingent swarmed the floor to scream along with “Living On A Prayer.” The rest of us kept our distance, out of respect.

  • Open bar!
Congrats to the happy couple.


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