The best man stood. He raised his glass. He looked to his old friend. He looked at his friend’s bride. He reflected on the happiness spread across the newlyweds’ faces. He glanced toward the crowd awaiting his toast.
The best man had considered a toast that captured his friendship with the groom. A toast that mentioned how his old buddy had settled down with a beautiful bride. How wedding bells continued decimating that old gang of his. Preparing for this moment, he had tried several jokes. He had wanted to inject a small amount of levity for the occasion.
But it had all sounded convoluted. It rambled.
He had decided that morning on another tact. The best man would keep his toast short and sweet, direct and to the point. He’d decided on an old Irish saying. He couldn’t recall it exactly, but he remembered the sentiment. He felt it said everything that needed saying.
Now, his glass raised, all eyes focused on the best man. The music had stopped. People turned from their tables. Guests twisted in their seats to watch him over their shoulders. Forks and spoons clanked at rest on plates.
He could tell from the groom’s face that he anticipated something appropriate but nothing hopefully too wicked from their checkered past. The bride smiled but gave the best man an unmistakable look: Don’t mess this up, idiot.
The best man cleared his throat, smiled all around, addressed the crowd, addressed the newlyweds, and said, “May your future be so bright that today is the worst day of your life.”
Satisfied with himself, he smiled again, and drank a deep sip of champagne. He’d wished a couple on what was hopefully the happiest day of their life so much future happiness that their wedding day would seem grim compared to the promise of the wonderful things to come.
Still smiling, he sat down. Then he noticed the silence. There’d been no hear, hear. No cheer. No applause. Nothing. He looked toward the crowd. They stared at him in head-scratching confusion.
The best man looked at the wedding couple. The groom gave him a reassuring look; the type of look he gave when the best man struck out in baseball or missed a shot in basketball. The bride no longer smiled. Her look said, I knew you’d mess it up, idiot.
People slowly turned back to their meals, their drinks, their conversations. They turned their backs on the best man, hoping to put his confusing toast behind them.
The groom leaned toward the best man. The bride glared behind him. “Dude,” the groom said, “what did that mean?”
“Did I not say it right?” the best man asked. “It should have been, may your future be so bright that today is the worst day of your life.”
“No, that’s what you said,” the groom answered.
“So, really, you think this is the worst day of our lives?” the bride said. She didn’t say the word “idiot,” but its meaning skimmed the surface of her voice. “You think our getting married has ruined our lives? His life, you mean? Because he can’t run around with you all the time as a single man anymore? And you just had to get a dig in on our wedding day.”
“No, no, no,” the best man said, driving home a whisper at the wedding party’s table. “It’s an old Irish blessing. Like, may the best day of your past be the worst day of your future.”
“We’re not Irish,” the bride said.
The groom added, “Yeah, man, I don’t get that one either.”
“They’re both old toasts,” the best man said. “They’re classics. May your future be so bright that today is the worst day of your life. It hopes that everything in your future will be even greater than today.”
The newlyweds sat back.
“Oh,” the groom said. “That’s not so bad.”
“No. That’s nice,” the bride said, smiling before her eyes locked the idiot look on the best man again. “You should have said that.”
Dean Poling is The Valdosta Daily Times assistant managing editor. His newest book, "Waiting for Willie," is available at The Valdosta Daily Times, 201 N. Troup St.
Dean Poling
The Toast
A tale
- Dean Poling
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Roosevelt Marshall
Roosevelt Marshall of Valdosta passed this life Dec. 14, 2010. Funeral services will be held at 3 p.m. at Union Cathedral with Bishop Wade S. McCrae, Pastor officiating. Burial will follow in Sunset Hill Cemetery. Final rites are entrusted to Harrington Funeral Home.
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Alice W. Johnson
Alice W. Johnson, 55, of Valdosta died on Monday, Oct. 11, 2010 at the Langdale Hospice House following a lengthy illness. Services for Alice W. Johnson will be held at 4 p.m. today, Thursday, Oct. 14, 2010 in the chapel of the Carson McLane Funeral Home with the Rev. Jay Watkins officiating. The burial will follow in the Riverview Memorial Gardens. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to Langdale Hospice 2263 Pineview Drive, Valdosta Ga. 31602 or to the American Cancer Society Hope Lodge, 2121 SW 16th Street Gainesville, Florida 32608. Condolences to the family may be conveyed online at www.mclanefuneralservices.com. — Carson McLane Funeral Home
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Not under his breath either. He talked like nobody’s business. -
Forget an overpass, 84 needs a leapover
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Sign of the voting times
Maybe we need a new way to elect our leaders.
Less than 18 percent of Lowndes County’s registered voters participated in Tuesday’s primary election. That sounds like a mandate of an apathetic populace that wants to do things differently. -
Wiregrass, um, Technical something or other
There’s nothing really wrong with the new technical school name of Wiregrass Georgia Technical College. But that’s quite a mouthful for folks used to calling its tech school the two-syllable Val-Tech.
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Roosevelt Marshall
