I can’t remember all the details, which is a shame. It was a week for the ages, a celebration of a commitment between two wonderful friends, an elation of the union we were actually part of, in a small way, a living body of friends and family with anxious energy that lead up to the moment the rings were exchanged. And we were part of the pure joy, also alive, that buzzed like a Bikini Blonde the second it was all over. Done, dusted, married.
And it went that fast. It did. Only five days removed from the ceremony, it seems like a lifetime ago. A week in Maui with my family, dressed in smiles virtually the entire time, was amazing on its own. But this sucker had a pulse, we were all there together and I’d like to think we left our mark, not in the sand or in our bar tabs, but in the memories we created together. No, not the details – they will go, like our tans – but in the mutual notion that we were there, man. We were there that perfect day just off Honoapiilani Highway when Ali and Angela got hitched, and that is something to smile about even if we can’t remember who played air guitar on the dance floor.