After reading my blog entry about the wedding, someone asked me “so what was it like to be a groomsman?” and I realized that I didn’t really talk about that very much, maybe because it was one of two hats that I wore for the wedding, and it was the Musician Hat that occupied more of my time and energy. . . both at the wedding itself and it the days leading up to it. But it was the Groomsman Hat that was most thrilling to wear, and truth be told I still have to pinch myself to make sure that I didn’t just dream up the whole thing. But then I look at the photograph above and realize that Yes Indeed, Trevor asked me to be a Groomsman. And I must have said yes, because I have the tux bill from MW Tuxedo Rental to prove it!
Before this, I had only been a groomsman once. . . for my brother-in-law, Mark. (I was asked to be a groomsman for a good friend of mine from high school, David Britson, back in the early 80’s, but I was busy singing at the Blossom Festival in Kent, Ohio and had already arranged to be absent for a long weekend for my folks’ surprise 25th wedding anniversary celebration at Luther Valley, and another such absence was out of the question. Now as I look back, I really regret that I turned down his invitation as matter-of-factly as I did. I realize now that he accorded me quite an honor and I should have moved heaven and hell to have answered his call . . . and failing that, been much more apologetic and regretful about declining the honor. What can I say? I was dumb back then.) It’s not that I haven’t had good friends over the years get married, but my post repeatedly has been on the piano or organ bench and not up front. And although it never particularly bothered me at the time, I grew to have some twinges of regret about that.
Which is why it was all the more astonishing and thrilling to be asked to be someone groomsman at the ripe old age of 47/ now 48 . . .
It was right around New Year’s, and Kathy and I had taken Trevor and Megan out for supper up in Milwaukee to the Cheesecake Factory. (I know because I haven’t eaten there since, thanks to Greg’s Groomsman Diet.) It was on the way home that Trevor, from the back seat, issued the invitation to me – and it was probably just as well that it happened in such an informal setting, where I was already sitting down and wouldn’t be falling down in a faint! And one of the things that made it especially neat was that Trevor asked me enthusiastically but sort of nonchalantly, as though it were the most normal thing in the world for him to ask this of me. (I would have half expected him to preface the question with “this may sound really weird, but I was wondering. . . “ ) As far as Trevor was concerned, of course I would be one of his groomsman. Duh! And I was so honored when I thought of all the other guys to whom he could have so easily extended such an honor- including football teammates, fellow music students, relatives, even other teachers. etc.
I was especially pleased to be part of a foursome of such terrific men. Trevor’s best friend Dee, the best man, is a great guy – and I’ve thought that from the first time I met him maybe four years ago. (He used to be one of the students who would work in the chapel for weddings, setting up sound, answering questions, etc. He was doing that for a Carthage wedding where I was doing music, and he was so easy to talk with. The guy really should run for president someday, and I don’t mean president of the school board either. Dee could charm the yolk out of an egg.) Gary Williams is a Carthage grad from ’96 who was a star on the gridiron and returned to his alma mater to coach football and to be one of our freshman advisors. He’s another one who could and should run for president- I love the guy and everyone else loves him too. And as someone just 13 years younger than me, he made me feel a little less like a lonely octogenarian amongst teenagers. Finally there was Trevor’s cousin from Texas, Adam, who is a really nice, gentle, fun guy. I sat next to him at the rehearsal dinner and really enjoyed getting to know him.
And there we were . . . the Front Four. . . and Trevor’s mom told me later that right from the start Trevor wanted his groomsmen to be the four of us and he was not going to add one or two more just to balance out Megan’s bridesmaids, numerically. . . which I think was cool – and I appreciate that Megan (unlike a lot of brides) was not bound and determined to have perfect numeric symmetry up front for the sake of appearances. They both wanted to be surrounded by the people to whom they felt the closest . . . and apparently that was us.
Of course, you probably know from reading this blog that Trevor’s invitation inspired me to take off some girth. I did not lose a single pound before my 25th college reunion last fall. . . but for this I felt differently. I just couldn’t bear the thought of standing up there next to four trim, solidly built athletes looking like I’d just swallowed another groomsman whole. I was not so self-deluded as to think that losing some weight would magically allow me to blend in with these good-looking guys as though I were one of them. I mean, I am literally old enough to be Trevor’s father, for Pete’s sake. But I knew that I would feel at least a little less self conscious if I didn’t look like an honorable mention from TV’s “Biggest Loser.” And lo and behold, I started this quest at 271 in late January. . . and the morning of the wedding, I was 222. . . and that did allow me to be a bit more comfortable as part of the “Front Four.” (And the beat goes on. I fully intend to lose a bit more weight and to solidify what’s there.)
And compared to composing harp parts and learning the Bach/Gounod Ave Maria, being a groomsman was a cinch! The hardest part was actually during the pictures afterwards, when the photographer kept posing the groomsmen in these stances which were supposed to looked “relaxed” but made me feel incredibly stupid and old. (In one of them, which is apparently a new tradition in wedding pix, the bride and groom are standing in the middle of us as the bridesmaids each hold up their flowers sort of like Lady Liberty holding her torch while we groomsmen were supposed to raise our arms in the air, fists clenched, looking incredibly happy. In another, he asked each of us to select a pose that could us on the cover of GQ magazine. . . meaning that he wanted us to stand there looking relaxed yet charismatic. I stood there utterly helpless, completely clueless as to what to do, until finally someone threw me a life preserver by suggesting that I stand there with my hands in my pocket. You’d think someone who graduated cum laude from college might have been able to come up with that on his own, but oh well!
It’s hard to think of favorite moments, but in some ways what I enjoyed most of all was the breakfast we had together the morning of the wedding. Trevor started out the morning with a run with a couple of the guys, but I wisely opted for the treadmill at Razor Sharp instead. (I suspect that if I had tried running with this group of lean and mean jocks, I would have spent the rest of Trevor’s wedding day in the local ICU.) Trevor then chose IHOP for the meal, and I was proud of myself in that while he and my compatriots were downing rather sinful-looking omelets and the like, I was eating the grilled chicken breast and steamed vegetables ordered off of the senior citizen menu! (And they didn’t card me either.) The most interesting thing about the meal was that I came armed with Mark Bowden’s “The Best Game Ever,” the story of the famous NFL championship game of ’58, in case the discussion turned to sports and I needed something to contribute besides a blank bewildered look on my face. But amazingly, we ended up talking for quite some time about Gilbert and Sullivan’s “The Mikado,” which Gary has loved ever since he saw Trevor perform in it at Carthage. A couple times during that discussion, I found myself shaking my head just to make sure that I wasn’t dreaming the whole thing up. But then I realized that it only makes sense for Trevor’s friends to be wide-ranging renaissance men as he is. And that made it even more fun to be part of the quartet in question. . . from breakfast at IHOP to late that evening as we helped load wedding presents into the back of the Parker’s van. I think all four of us were just thrilled to be part of the occasion and would have cleaned the parking lot with a toothbrush if called upon to do so. But fortunately, all we really had to do was just Be Happy. . . the easiest thing in the world to be on this glorious occasion.
pictured above: Kathy took this picture as the groomsmen were being lined up for one of a number of pictures taken by the Lake. The guys are , from left to right: Gary, Dee, GB, and Adam. I’m the guy sucking in his gut, trying to look like I’ve lifted something heavier than the remote.