Timmy Burns

A word on weddings.

It's starting to happen. People I know are getting married. Each year there's more of them, and usually I don't give it much thought. I guessed that they liked each other enough to put up with one another's shit for the rest of their lives, I would assume that they can deal with what they like and don't like about the other person well enough to say, 'Yea, we can spend 24 hours a day together for the next 50 or 60 years, sure.'

But recently something has changed. I received a wedding invitation for my friend Rich's wedding to his fiance just a few days ago. (Is that a dangling participle?) Whether it was the way the invitation was written, or the greater message it delivered, it moved me. Two people are going to vow to be completely devoted to one another for the rest of their lives. Thick and thin, good or bad, angry, happy, or hungry, they're willing to commit to each other unconditionally.

And that to me is romantic. It's love in it's purest form. Joviality washes over me, and I'm happy for these two people.

Anyway, to prove that I've not gone soft: I got into a fist fight with a black bear yesterday and I broke his jaw. Then I kicked him in the ribs while he was down. His cubs attempted to swarm me from all sides, but I picked one up by the face and dug my thumbs into it's eyeballs, then swung it around like a baseball bat, crushing the other two small bears.

Then I ate their hearts and wore their guts as a necklace while I climbed on top of the highest hill I could find to pronounce my war cry - letting all the other creatures of the forest know that I am all that is man.

Then I cried when I got that bears wedding invitation in the mail.