the best man's toast
I kinda suck at this, so I wrote down everything I want to say. (Including this comment.)

Chris and I have been friends for most of our lives. I figured it out -- as of next month it will be twenty years. That's a long time under the best of circumstances, and you'd expect a fair amount of squabbling to have gone down.

But in all that time, Chris and I have only had one fight.

We were juniors in high school, spending our lunch period throwing a frisbee around the band room. And I'll confess, my full attention wasn't on the game. There was a girl I was interested in (and when wasn't there, right?) and she just happened to be in the band, and she just happened to take lunch in the band room most days. So I thought, with all my brilliant subtlety and rico-suave-osity, that I'd take up a position right next to her so we could chat mid-game.

So I guess my mind wandered too far from the frisbee. Next thing I know, it whizzed maybe three inches from my head. And when I looked up, Chris was pissed off.

He demanded to know why I hadn't caught his throw. I responded with characteristic maturity by hurling the frisbee back at him as hard as I could. And then there was some chest-bumping, some shoving, some name-calling.

Chris threw the first punch. He didn't want to, but it had progressed too far to avoid it. So he hit me in the shoulder with all the force of a big moth. To be truthful, it was the only punch -- I didn't want to break my knuckles his face. So I tackled him [Chris: "You sat on me!"], and we wrestled for all of five seconds before a couple of football players pulled us apart. And he flashed me a look meant to kill and stormed out.

We all know Chris is stubborn. But we also know he's probably the most loyal guy any of us has ever met. And that's what the fight was about. Chris gives his all in friendship and demands no less from the rest of us. He knew me well enough to know that if I got involved with this girl, there'd be less of me for him -- less patience, less caring, less devotion. And honestly, this girl wasn't worth it. Obviously, if I don't even remember her name anymore.

But now the roles are reversed, and it's Chris who's got the girl. But Lesley is so far beyond worth it that I don't even need to waste time justifying it. With her, Chris is so much happier than I've ever seen him -- at least in a non-caffeinated state. She's better than Mountain Dew; sweeter, smarter, peppier, less frighteningly colored. And I can't adequately express how it moves me to see her comfort my best friend, to see him happy in her arms.

I have another anecdote about Chris (it's short, I promise). Five years ago, Chris came to my wedding. He shared with me later what was going through his head watching my first dance with my wife: "Look how happy they are. Look how devoted they are to each other, how they share each other's joy and excitement, how they don't hesitate to support each other unyieldingly. That's what you need. You need to get that for yourself."

Chris, I'm thrilled that you have found it.

Don't worry. I left my frisbee at home.

(Pictures.)