What can The Ford say about getting married?

Sure, he'd like to do so someday. Probably sooner, rather than later, even.

And yet, there was certainly a moment during the reception for the wedding The Ford was in Maui to attend when he was more than a little bittersweet.

Mostly because, well, as happy as The Ford was for the groom, he couldn't help but feel a bit sad for him, too.

The wedding is the official end to the single life. A funeral, if you will, for a guy's swinging bachelor days.

And even if your bachelor days aren't that swinging, and the groom's bachelor days even less swingin', there's still a bit of a melancholy air to a wedding from a guy's point of view.

It's as though our swingin' bachelor selves are being reminded that they, too, are mortal, prone to a sudden expiration around the same time one nears 30.

Such a thing will weigh heavily on the mind of even the most contented man, which explains why, once the opening dances were finished, most of the single guys in attendance at the reception hung back, uneager to join in the dancing right away.

One does not dance at a funeral. One solemnly contemplates the life of the deceased, takes stock of it all, and then drinks heavily. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Then again, that's more-or-less what The Ford does on a regular basis, so perhaps he can be excused for -- following a couple of extra alcoholated beverages -- getting his dance on.

After all, sure, the wedding is a celebration of the death of the single life, but it's also a place to get down with bridesmaids celebrating the birth of their friend's married life.

And those bridesmaids, well, they REALLY enjoy their birth celebrations, y'know?

Still, there was a moment when all the single guys gathered to congratulate the groom, and we all looked at each other, and realized, that this, this party, was but a first step in our inexorable march toward a much gloomier, albeit more routinely-filled-with-sex, place.

We nodded at each other, in silent recognition of the event, shook hands with the groom, and then got down with the bridesmaids.

Our bachelor days could see the end of the road from there, and, well, we were still hours from breaking open a bottle of tequila.

What else could we do?



Other stuff from The Official Hawaiian Vacation:

1.) Sure, as one of the attendees noted, the luau attended by The Ford on Friday night felt vaguely like a minstrel show, with the embracing of seemingly every South Pacific culture that embraces scantily clad men and women shaking what the good lord gave 'em. (Note: That's pretty much all of them.) When really, what the show should be pointing out is Pacific Islanders' impressive mastery of screening patterns onto cotton clothing decades before the mainland. What, those colorful patters are all mechanically created? Well, now The Ford is a bit disillusioned. Luckily, he had all the booze he could drink, plenty of pineapple cake, and a plethora of bikini- and lava-lava-clad ladies to ogle. Someday, there might even be photos of said luau right here, if The Semi-Official Photographer of The Official Blog ever gets around to e-mailing them to The Ford.

2.) The actual wedding went fairly smoothly. But if there was ever a recipe for disaster at a wedding, it's having the minister get stuck in traffic an hour away, and having to call in a replacement at the last minute. Luckily, the emergency minister -- a friend of the caterer -- Lou Gehrig'ed the first minister's Wally-Pippness. A good finish, all around.

3.) Speaking of the caterer, The Ford was definitely ready to forgive him for making The Ford ad-lib a blessing of the dinner (after preparing for only the traditional wedding toast) after he suggested the wedding party finish off an unopened-but-paid-for bottle of tequila after the reception. Nothing soothes the nerves like a couple-five shots of Jose Cuervo with the bridesmaids.

4.) Speaking of The Ford's toast, he's pretty happy with it. The gist, well, you'll have to wait for the video to come out, but suffice to say, The Ford delighted the crowd, and even got in a few generic digs at Idaho.

5.) Most of the final day of The Official Hawaiian Vacation was spent chilling in a Borders near the airport, out of the belief that The Ford would have an easier time getting a cab from there. 30 minutes of cell-phone-tag and an offer by one of the cuter Borders employees to drive The Ford to the airport, and The Ford was ready to admit he probably should have spent some more time at the beach.

6.) The flight back from Maui was long (midnight Sunday to 10 p.m. Monday), but vaguely uneventful. The Ford finally got to see why The Pink Panther remake got such bad (but well-deserved) reviews, won $40 in Vegas, and arrived in Detroit sans checked bag. When the sun shines, The Ford gets drenched. Luckily, The Ford's bag eventually arrived on Tuesday, only 4.5 hours after the airline promised it would be delivered, necessating a sprint from The Official Bar to The Official Apartment at 3 a.m. Eh. At least The Ford has shoes again. There's something to be said for shoes.

7.) Among other things, The Ford now owns two separate pieces of neckwear consisting of shells.
This is equal to the pairs of sandals The Ford owns.
The Ford is definitely getting laid back in his old age.
Other than the whole "being way too intense at work" thing, of course.