A wedding toast I delivered last night:

I’ve known Matt – I call him Big Matt – for fifteen years. We met during a five month stretch in an 8×10 cinder block room back in 1991. That was the semester we roomed together in college.
A few word of thanks.
First, I’d like to thank Mark and Linda for hosting such a wonderful party, and Matt and Michelle for all their preparations and work. They really did a fantastic job. Many people contributed this day–so many family members and friends made this celebration what it is.
For me, what makes this day so special, is that the love between Michelle and Matt is so genuine and obvious. I truly believe that Matt would walk the ends of the Earth for Michele’s happiness. And I know Michelle would do the same for him. That’s why their marriage will be such a great success.
Matt and Michele choose each other. They choose to share their life. Tonight is but the start of a special journey. A journey that is their story. Tonight. Tonight we bear witness to a small part of their first chapter. Like the great romances, the story of Matt and Michelle can be retold again and again.
To Matt and Michelle: May you always honor and follow the story that led you to each other, to this moment, to this happy place.

Congratulations to both of you.

NOTE: Regular posts resume on Monday, September 18th.

On a warm morning in late August 2001, I leaned against tower one’s base–the glass and steel stretched so incredibly high–and looked upwards into an endless blue sea. An African dance squad treated the morning crowd to a free exhibition. It smelled like adrenaline, exhaust and steam. The Wife suggested taking a tour to the sky deck. The line reached down the stairs and wound around most the Byzantine lobby. Put off by the crowds, I said something like, “We’ll be back in two weeks after school starts. It’ll be better. There’ll be less people then.”

A statement that rings in my ears, it’s the biggest reason I resumed writing after falling away from the habit for nearly six years. Never know what the next day might bring, and how many more there might be.

Never forget.

Godspeed, Steve Irwin. You were one crazy diamond.

On average for every two phone messages I leave, one person returns the call. That number includes business matters. If work related messages are excluded, the ratio plummets to three messages per callback. Boy, what a harsh view on the state of my communication skills.

Sometimes the odds are better, sometimes slightly worse, but over time those are the metrics. Looking at my own call history, I want to believe I am more responsive. I might be. But I drink from the same well.

And there are reasons to not return a call. Valid, rational explanations. For instance, the caller on the message is drunk; it’s 3AM; it’s the last person in the world I want to deal with; I was gone for the weekend and the spontaneous invitation no longer applies because the date passed.

Also, by their nature some messages do not require a reply, so I understand when someone does not. A friend that drives a long way home from dinner just wants to let you know they arrived safely. In that case, their message closes the loop. They need no further reassurance.

Over the next week, I will be more aware of when I avoid calling people back, and why.