In the Style of Cheap Trick

Yesterday evening, we found ourselves in Ponca, NE for my buddy Clif's wedding. He, a huntin', fishin', baseball playin', good ol' boy married a woman who, also, likes to fish, hunt, kill. They are made for each other, and it was a gorgeous wedding. Clif is just so dang cute, and his new wife is equally fantastic-looking. On our way there, we passed over the mighty Missouri and I was like, "why don't we hang out here all the time?" So, my new place is the sandbars of the Mo. Find me there.

I know Clif is exceptionally good-looking because when he stopped over at our house a while back to drop off the wedding invitation, he was in his baseball uniform, and when he left, Bridge was a little in love.

On the Nebraska winding road back to Vermillion, Bridge and I talked about weddings and all that stuff. Clif's wedding was a Catholic wedding, and both Bridge and I have grown up in the Catholic faith and still go to Mass nearly every Sunday. Sometimes, we get lazy.

I know what you're thinking, and we have thought it, too.

But, I love the Catholic faith. I do. I love the rituals, the songs, the prayers. Obviously, I don't love what the Vatican says, but I have never taken the word of man all that seriously. Above all things, love one another.

Right?

And I love Catholic weddings. They are packed with meaning and as I watched my friend get married, it was with mixed emotions. I was proud that this is what people of my faith do, but also saddened. I would like that someday. I would like to share in that with the person I love someday.

Well, that's enough of all that for now. We rolled back into town around 10, and we, along with other English peeps at the wedding, and some more folks, all met downtown. We began at the Pub, where I am now the facilitator of the Vermillion gay book club, but my only member so far is C., who is totes straight. She'a gonna put it on her CV, though: "Gay Book Club Member."

And, I uncovered a plan by the hets that they are trying to reappropriate the word, "gay." They just want to be happy, they say.

We ended up at the Eagles, and, as usual, I ended up on stage singing karaoke. This time, it was Tiffany: "I Think We're Alone Now."

You know you love it, baby.

I am deadset on Chae's for lunch. This will happen.

Happy 7-7-07! BrontoRen, what does this mean?

(BrontoJem, I miss youse.)