Apr 25, 2009 21:39
Matty and Sean's wedding was everything one could have wished for. I'd download some pictures, but the cable I set out to bring seems to have not made it to Los Angeles. By later tonight there should be pics all over, because if this wedding was anything, it was a convergence of men with cameras. Who are more organized than me.
Vincent was the officiant. He warned against Twittering and Facebooking during the ceremony. He didn't so much officiate as provide background omniscience. This ceremony was written. Sean's old friend Amy delivered a classic scripture reading from the little-known Book of Joan, beseeching the couple to hate the dirt and warning them against wire hangers. Owen read his poem honoring the futon that Matty and Sean, uh, nevermind and he also had a brass plaque made for it. Brilliant. And the vows the boys wrote made everyone tear up under the various Oakleys, RayBans, and their knockoffs.
The food was burgers and fries from where else- Pie and Burger- and perfect.
The booze flowed, as did the sunscreen. The pool sparkled and the palm trees waved. It wasn't Hockney or Isherwood, More like Robert Altman's Short Cuts without the icky suff. At least when I'd left.