My Best Friend's Gay Wedding... and other adventures

Last weekend I was honored to be an attendant in my best friend's wedding (not the movie, although that too would have been delightful).  Steve was marrying Jay and it would be my first gay wedding.  Of course, politics what they are and since the Berkshires are beautiful this time of year, the wedding was held in Massachusetts.

The wedding was held on the grounds of The Inn at Laurel Lake, a quaint B&B, overlooking the lake near The Mount.  As if by magic the weather was beautiful, as were the grooms... the wedding party wasn't so bad either if I do say so myself.

Stephanie, Steve and I (pictured) were inseparable in college.  We were in shows together, partied together, got into zany adventures together... it goes on and on.  In one such moment of foolishness we decided to begin working out together.  This usually meant that Stephanie and I would wander around the gym gossiping about the other members while Steve wandered around the gym offering to spot would-be athletes.  What always followed was ravenous hunger and we would race across the street to one of the campus cafeterias and eat our weight in Chick-fil-A waffles fries.  One evening we were just stepping out of the Bubble (as the gym was called at UT) and as we began across the street Stephanie went flying face first onto Andy Holt Avenue.  A trip to the ER followed in which Steve and I watched an awards show on the waiting room television while waiting for Steph to be bandaged and released.

But that was umpteen years ago and the wedding was the first time the three of us were together since our school days.  It's amazing how time passes so quickly and if you're not careful it can zip right past you.  Thankfully, regardless of how many miles are between us, we three have stayed close and had the chance to share this amazing day.  In a way I feel like we renewed our vows as best friends.  So, a second toast to the blushing grooms and a new toast to future mishaps together.  Cheers Steve and Steph!

Busted! Sleeping in the Girls' Dorm Room

I was going through some old boxes recently and came across my old student ID from MTSU.  As a senior in high school I had a very important decision to make.  I had to choose between going to The University of Tennessee which was only 40 minutes from home and a world-class leader in education... or going to MTSU which was 3 hours away from home but offered me the enjoyment of two of my best girl friends.

HELLO!?


So I obviously went to MTSU.  The only downside to living in my 165 square foot door room was my assigned roommate.  Bubba, as he was called (and I kid you not) was what you don't want in a roommate.  The tallow tuba player (again, kid you not) kept a foot locker near his bed filled with Hostess and Little Debbie snacks... which was more than welcome except that I was forbidden to touch the savory sweets.

Over the course of the first semester I came to understand that Bubba and I were not going to make it.  His love of Speedracer, tuba practice and keeping the A/C at a frigid 40 degrees overnight (which led to several visits to the campus clinic for inflamed lungs) forced a wedge in our could-be friendship until I couldn't take it anymore and moved out at Christmas.

The girls (see above: best girl friends) were rooming together in a dorm across the quad but were looking to get an apartment off campus and we decided that our codependency was working for us and that we should all three move in together.

It would be hard leaving Bubba and his treasure trove behind... but I persevered.

We found an apartment about a mile outside of campus and quickly turned in our rent ($400 total per person for the spring semester in 1993 dollars - $603.49 in 2010 dollars).  The apartment was a dump but it was our first real place as adults and we didn't care.  But that's for another day.  (Stay tuned.)

For now we needed to get all of our stuff out of the dorms and into the apartment so that we could begin our grown up lives.  I stopped into the girls' dorm building and dropped of my student ID at the front desk (that was protocol to ensure that boys didn't stay overnight).

The move went smoothly but I forgot to reclaim my ID from the front desk.  Winter soon passed and the spring semester began... when suddenly I received a letter from the Dean of Students.  I was being put on judicial probation for "sleeping in a girl's dorm room".

I was aghast!  How could anyone think I was sleeping in a girl's dorm room?!  Didn't they know me well enough?  Wasn't it clear from my use of the word "aghast".  I mean, it either means I'm gay or a pirate (or both).  


I mean really... while both of my best friends were beautiful women, neither had the power to convert me to heterosexuality.  Just wasn't going to happen.  I wrote a strongly worded letter to the Dean explaining the misunderstanding and I think I was let off of probation after they saw that I signed my letter with a smiley face. I think.  I'm not sure to this day.  But whatever was done to my permanent record has had no impact on my present situation.  Maybe that little slip even gave me some unintended street cred with the school's administration.  It would explain the thumbs up I would get from unknown men and woman in their mid-50s as I strolled through the University Center.