The day itself was hotter than most I can recall. Sure, it’d been a warm summer, but, damn…we sweat straight through those ridiculous suits and those alter fans did nothing but blow out repeated attempts at lighting the unity candle. The pastor looked to be a goner for sure, but our nervous exuberance and exaggerated smiles destroyed any chance that discomfort might arrive to sour the mood.


The heat be damned. We were getting married.

Twelve years on and while I certainly have less unfortunate facial and cranial hair I still sweat through clothes with ease. I also smile a lot, though, so I got that goin for me. We had the bright idea that we might wed and get going on the path we were so obviously destined to travel. Get busy livin, as they say. One good year deserves eleven more.

Here’s to another hundred.

As the years pass we gather in groups diminishing in size, but positively blooming with pride and wonder and love. While we may have lost our youth and resilience; our smooth skin and three-hour hangovers; each drink tastes stronger and sweeter as our skin grows thicker.

Rings on the tree add wisdom to the tongue.

Happy anniversary to the most beautiful of brides. I keep getting older; she stays the same age.


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The longest month of my life.

One month on and if I missed you any more I’d break down and cry. If I felt any less, the guilt would destroy me. Just wanted to drop a line to let you know that we’re still here if you need us; that you’ll remain forever heavy on our hearts and in our minds. As if you didn’t know.

I look forward to the next time pop up in some random dream. Perhaps I’ll have lost my way, or perhaps you’ll offer a grin when I need it most. Meanwhile, I don’t know…movies, music, and beer, I suppose. Share what we can with the kids and hope for the best, right?

What can we do but keep on keepin on?

Cheers, good buddy.
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