The Wedding Nut

I think weddings are fun, and I especially like goofy wedding traditions. But at my cousin's wedding reception, I came across something a little different. I was washing my hands in the bathroom when a well-dressed gentleman came in, held out a pecan, and said, "I give you the wedding nut!" I didn't move to take it, and instead said, "...the what?" He replied, "the wedding nut," with emphasis. So I extended my hand, and he plopped it into mine. Then without explanation he left as promptly and with as much purpose as he had entered. I remained in the same position with my hand out-stretched looking at the pecan that sat there. "The wedding nut...hrmmm..." I dried my hands and took the now slightly moistened nut back out to the wedding reception.

The music was loud, but I spied my sister boogieing next to her husband. Assuming that she would have some idea of what to do, I went up to her and said, "Some guy just gave me the wedding nut." She said, "...the what?" I replied, "the wedding nut," with emphasis. She thought about it for a moment, still dancing, and said, "Andrew, I don't think that that's a thing. I think some guy just handed you a pecan." I didn't believe her at first, but after asking more and more people and after pulling out the same pecan to show each person that I wasn't lying, reality finally sank in. Frustrated that the nut in my hand was nothing special, out-of-the-ordinary, or even extraordinary, I started to dance, hoping that the loud music would help me forget the memory of the strange, but well-dressed, man who handed me a pecan at my cousin's wedding reception.

But being the hopeful man that I am....I invented a new tradition....that of the wedding nut! So here's how it works:

The best man first obtains a suitable wedding nut. The best man then later hands off said nut to a single man at the wedding reception. This single man then, in turn, passes the wedding nut to another single man.* The nut continues to be passed until the bouquet is thrown. At this point, the man who holds the pecan is singled out as the chosen one. The chosen one then dances with single woman who catches the bouquet. And as they dance, parents, cousins, friends, and family all watch to see if maybe, just maybe, the wedding nut lit any fireworks.

*Stipulation!: a single man cannot reject the wedding nut, as it brings shame to himself and his family.

Haircuts, Crickets, and the End of All Things

As Braveheart plays on my tv in the background, I ponder three things that have been weighing very heavily on my mind:

1. One, I need a haircut.
2. Two, I need to get over my fear of bugs, because Austin is in the process of being systematically taken over by crickets.
3. Three, I'm pretty sure the last time I looked in a mirror, my left ear moved without me consciously trying to move it, and after unsuccessfully trying for half an hour to recreate said motion, I am left with the notion that my ear will move when it wants to, not when I want it to.

These things weigh very heavily on my mind because they represent some things that I am in the process of discovering: I need to accept things about myself that I cannot change, I need to get over my fears, and I need to get a haircut every 6-8 weeks.

What are my fears, you might ask?

1. Comedy. I'm deathly afraid of comedy, well, really I'm just afraid of not being funny, or of not knowing that I'm not funny (ignorance would not be bliss). And so I've decided that I have to practice more, and as a result, comedy has a much bigger timeshare in my life. My plan is to attack comedy from all sides: sketch, improv, and stand-up. Because that's what they'd least expect, right?
2. Bugs. Crickets keep showing up in places I don't expect them to, watching, and waiting for me to make a mistake. And when I do, I'm scared to think of what they're capable of doing.
3. Ghosts. I just discovered a TV show called Ghost Adventures, where an intrepid group of three friends scope out some of the most haunted places on earth. It's made me see that maybe those bumps in the night aren't always a figment of my imagination.
4. Fear itself.

But comedy, crickets, and the occasional haunting won't stand in my way. I just wish I knew where my "way" is leading...