A Toast
As I am an Iron City Fishing Club outsider, I am going to offer you a bit of personal history.
I first met Anna Marie Cooper and Eric Sloan in Eugene, OR--though I initially met Minkie, as she is affectionately known by most of us *gestures to the bridal party table*, earlier, circa 1999.
DJ Shadow was our soundtrack, and the anthems of our circle somehow managed to be both happy and hardcore at the same time. Pokemon was all the rage and Marie's collection of My Little Ponies littered the landscape of her dorm room. It was a veritable Saturday Morning stable.
It was quite sometime before she first smiled at the man seated next to her today. Before that day (and of course afterward) there would be countless lunches together, covert food thefts from the dining hall, and tons of Sunday morning sunrises, us and all of our friends sweaty and exhuasted having danced the night into oblivion. That special day was coming however, when another brilliant individual would walk in our midst.
Crammed into the elevator of Carson Hall on move in day, second year, Eric and Marie defied gravity for the first time together--as strangers, but together nonetheless. I would of course hear all about that "beautiful boy" in the elevator and just how cute Marie's mother also found him to be.
In the weeks and months to come, introductions were made, friendships were formed but a few things were dragged out just a bit:
She was pining. He was pining. They were pining for each other.
I was sighing. Being the go-between I helped as best as I could. I composed sermons and pep talks for the both of them. One entitled, "She Loves You, Ya Ya...Ya...no really...or..at least I think she likes you a whole lot..."
Another, "She Strangles Ponies: A Case Study in Romantic Frustration"
I still imagine there to have been a large number of neon haired, technicolor casualties leading up to that fateful day on the cusp of Winter's end, upon the bank of the mighty Willamette river. It was this, a place of legends where our fair Maiden Minkie finally threw caution to the beguiling wind, fought off the sharks in the deep waters of potential rejection and yelled from the tree tops in a voice that could command a coming dinasuar revival,
"Eric...I really like you...or something."
Prince Eric too, now ringing his socks, having been shocked into the raging river's torrent by Minkie's sudden proclamation, extended a well-manicured hand, brushed back his andalusion mane and roared from the depths,
"I really really like you too...something something"
Groundhogs everywhere convulsed and withered. Spring had come early that year.
Lots of springs have come since them. Lots of summers. Camping trips. Holidays with Tofurky and Candlelights. Cakes in fun shapes and drunken piggy-back rides through downtown Portland, laughing,
sprinting,
running, feet foward zooming it seems,
towards ourselves.
Toward today.
This, I think, hints at the strange and beautiful quality of a wedding, and to the power of a relationship such as the one we see before us today. It is a force. It moves us. It compels us.
Eric and Marie, you compel us,
all of us here,
past,
present,
and future,
to be together,
and together with you on this very special day.
To say thank you will never be enough.
To Eric and Marie!
May the best always find you, as we have found the best with you.
I first met Anna Marie Cooper and Eric Sloan in Eugene, OR--though I initially met Minkie, as she is affectionately known by most of us *gestures to the bridal party table*, earlier, circa 1999.
DJ Shadow was our soundtrack, and the anthems of our circle somehow managed to be both happy and hardcore at the same time. Pokemon was all the rage and Marie's collection of My Little Ponies littered the landscape of her dorm room. It was a veritable Saturday Morning stable.
It was quite sometime before she first smiled at the man seated next to her today. Before that day (and of course afterward) there would be countless lunches together, covert food thefts from the dining hall, and tons of Sunday morning sunrises, us and all of our friends sweaty and exhuasted having danced the night into oblivion. That special day was coming however, when another brilliant individual would walk in our midst.
Crammed into the elevator of Carson Hall on move in day, second year, Eric and Marie defied gravity for the first time together--as strangers, but together nonetheless. I would of course hear all about that "beautiful boy" in the elevator and just how cute Marie's mother also found him to be.
In the weeks and months to come, introductions were made, friendships were formed but a few things were dragged out just a bit:
She was pining. He was pining. They were pining for each other.
I was sighing. Being the go-between I helped as best as I could. I composed sermons and pep talks for the both of them. One entitled, "She Loves You, Ya Ya...Ya...no really...or..at least I think she likes you a whole lot..."
Another, "She Strangles Ponies: A Case Study in Romantic Frustration"
I still imagine there to have been a large number of neon haired, technicolor casualties leading up to that fateful day on the cusp of Winter's end, upon the bank of the mighty Willamette river. It was this, a place of legends where our fair Maiden Minkie finally threw caution to the beguiling wind, fought off the sharks in the deep waters of potential rejection and yelled from the tree tops in a voice that could command a coming dinasuar revival,
"Eric...I really like you...or something."
Prince Eric too, now ringing his socks, having been shocked into the raging river's torrent by Minkie's sudden proclamation, extended a well-manicured hand, brushed back his andalusion mane and roared from the depths,
"I really really like you too...something something"
Groundhogs everywhere convulsed and withered. Spring had come early that year.
Lots of springs have come since them. Lots of summers. Camping trips. Holidays with Tofurky and Candlelights. Cakes in fun shapes and drunken piggy-back rides through downtown Portland, laughing,
sprinting,
running, feet foward zooming it seems,
towards ourselves.
Toward today.
This, I think, hints at the strange and beautiful quality of a wedding, and to the power of a relationship such as the one we see before us today. It is a force. It moves us. It compels us.
Eric and Marie, you compel us,
all of us here,
past,
present,
and future,
to be together,
and together with you on this very special day.
To say thank you will never be enough.
To Eric and Marie!
May the best always find you, as we have found the best with you.
