Frankie Says. . .
July 17th, 2002 - 10:48 pm
. . . Relax.
So that’s what I’m doing. Well, that and about a million and six frenetic wedding-related activities.
I think maybe I have all my groomsmen gifts picked out, but what to get my best man still stumps me. Tick tick tick. Der Tag approaches.
Oh, about last night? Dessert was Bananas Foster. I’m getting good at that one. I got a humidor, a very cool cutter, a kick-ass torch (“lighter” would be an insult), and a selection of yummy cigars. She got pearls.
We’re both very, very happy.
Ah, to have a nice humidor. You made out like a bandit. Of course, you failed utterly to tell us the really juicy details, but we respect your privacy.
I got a leatherman from my bro. It’s a good manly gift. But the best man deserves something special, huh?
Here’s to that happiness lasting a lifetime for the both of you…
I once received a tremendous and thoughtful gift for being best man: an engraved silver pocket flask to contain my whiskey of the moment. Sadly, public imbibing is frowned upon in many venues today, but there is something supremely decadent about starting a good cigar, and then withdrawing a flask from one’s
breast pocket for a quick nip of Booker’s Choice or Laphroaig.
VP,
My best to you on this, one of your milestone days. May your roads rise to meet you both.
And, you sir are very lucky. Kipling (or someone he knew) had to make a choice which is being kept out of your way.
“Open the old cigar box – let me consider a while.
Here is a mild Manila – there is a wifely smile.
Which is the better portion – bondage bought with a ring,
Or a harem of dusky beauties – fifty tied with a string.”
-from The Betrothal
(Kipling married 2 years after this)
I’m still waiting for you to post a picture of THE RING.
Mmm, Cigars. Almost makes me wish there was marriage in my future…. almost.
The best to both of you.
I didn’t take Melissa for the Barbera Bush type. What are you trying to turn her into?!?!
Best of fortune to you both. Marriage is both bliss and the putting of the camel through the eye of a needle. I know that doesn’t make much sense but it will later.
I had the road rise up to meet me once, but later I figured it was just a perceptual error induced by a half-dozen Hurricanes. Dumb, but I was in college at the time, and demonstrations of idiocy while on spring break are de rigeur.