The wedding was a blast, as was the entire trip. I am very happy that I was present for this special moment in Eric's life. And it was all the better being the best man, which is basically like being given an all access backstage pass to the event. I got to be with Eric the moments before he stepped into public view, and to ask him if he really wanted to go through with it, or if we were going to high tail it out of there. Of course, he decided to go through with it.

The ceremony went very well. One of their mutual friends composed a song for them the night before, and about half way through the piano/singing number, she started crying. As did the bride. Perhaps the groom, but he was facing away from me. Waterworks throughout the building turned on.

Just when everyone was getting their tear ducts in order, Eric and Lynn start reading their declarations of love, which they had written wrote beforehand but only the minister had the honor of a sneak preview. Lynn and Eric could hardly get through them as chocked up as they were. Liberal passing of kleenex ensued.

I had the job of giving the rings to the preacher, which I managed to fumble through. The audience was forgiving of my sudden lack of coordination, probably because they were happy to see that I didn't drop them. After a good speech from the preacher, it was a vow time. I do's were passed back and forth, rings exchanged, and kisses shared. Hu--Rah!

All in all, it was a short ceremony, light on the dogma and heavy on the sappy stuff. I couldn't have asked for a better show. Plus I think that there is a direct relationship between one's enjoyment of a wedding and one's proximity to the bride and groom.

With the dinner afterwards, I had the terrifying pleasure of doing the best man's toast. I think I managed to give the crowd a good mix of humor, heartfelt love, and embarrassing stories about Eric and I walking around naked at Philmont. The preacher gave me props afterwards, so I figure that I did alright.

I was half of the DJ team for the ensuing dance floor festivities. I basically chose all the music for the night and Jeff, the MC, chose the order of songs. This worked out with great success, and everyone made a fool of themselves on the dance floor, myself included. So after stressing about non-offensive music all the week previous, the songlist all worked out.

Eric and Lynn seem really happy. Through the whole wedding, everyone around them was more nervous than they were. They were beacons of calm throughout all the festivities. Funny how that works out. It goes to show they they must be pretty happy with their decision.

I am supposed to send you thanks from them for the napkins. It was cool to use them when I had dinner with them a few days afterwards. Looks like they'll get some use from them. Of course, they'll give you thanks directly, but you did well giving them something that will have daily use.

Hmm. As far as the rest of my New York tale, it involved basically running around and seeing and talking to as many friends as I could. I pretty much I got to spend time with all my top-tier friends, which was very rewarding. I ate mexican food. I ate bagels. I drank the local brew. I read the physical manifestation of the New York Times (much better than the online version).

On leaving from JFK, on board the plane to LAX, I did manage to delay the flight a half hour. No, I did go to the correct airport, and I did get there on time, despite an hour delay with the airport's AirTran. (By the way, there is nothing worse than being delayed when you are on airport grounds... got a story or two on that problem).

Do you remember that Scott made me an iPod case out of a glued-together book with a dremmel-made space inside for the iPod? It looks like a normal book, until you open it and see that there is an iPod cut into it. Very unique. So unique that, after passing through security without a hitch, somehow somebody figured out which plane I was on and where I was sitting, and dispatched a flight attendant to double-check that I didn't just slip a bomb onto flight to the city of Angels. After the flight attendants had me step to the back and display my great brotherly gift to them, they let me sit back down. Then the pilot, a huge ex-military type came over to my seat for a look, just to be sure. After convincing him of my benign intentions, I successfully avoided having my flight destination altered to a military base in Cuba. Two days later, I was back in Sydney.

God knows how they tracked me down between the security gates and my seat on the plane, but I must say that they guys at JFK have their act together. I have more confidence now that they really thinking outside the box over there.