and the party went all the way live. (Rev. Jackson and Lawrence)

As I’ve mentioned before, there are times in your life when you blink, open your eyes and ask “how did I get here?”  One of those times occurred this past weekend when I was dancing as part of a wedding procession, packed up against Rev. Jesse Jackson who was waving a sword, while Eritrean music was blaring.

Fortunately there was a reasonable explanation.  It was Lawrence’s wedding and I was one-fifth of “the best man”.  Rev. Jackson is his uncle.  Lawrence’s wonderful spouse is Eritrean, and Eritrean weddings feature lots of dancing and swords, so it all adds up.  Still I think we can agree, that it was a departure from routine.

Side note: Here’s one of the reasons Lawrence is so cool.  He never told me he had a celebrity relative.  Why? Because it never came up.  I’d tell people “Oh look I have a hangnail.  My uncle the Rev. Jesse Jackson, had a hangnail once.” 

Side note two: At the reception, Rev. Jackson gave the blessing.  The MC introduced him as follows:

MC: And now to deliver the blessing, The Rev. Jesse Jackson! (Hands mic)

JJ: I am (pause) the Reverend (pause) Jesse Jackson.

Leah found this hilarious.

(Warning: this is the point where this post loses steam, and devolves into a series of unrelated and rambling thoughts)

(Derek, Ozgur, Me, Matt, Lawrence, Marlon, and Trey at the bachelor party)

Honestly, I don’t like that many people.  I would encourage others not to take that personally, at least to the extent possible.  It’s not their fault we don’t click.  The flip side to that is that frequently the people I think are really cool feel disinclined towards me.  Every once in a while you find someone that you think is awesome and that finds you awesome, and you try to marry that person if applicable or at minimum make them one of your best friends. 

Lawrence is one of those people, and while I don’t have to talk to him every day or see him every year, whenever we talk or meet it’s good times both in terms of depth of conversation and enjoyment.  He’s really smart, cares about a lot of the same things I do, and has an absolutely magnetic personality.  I’m not the only one that feels that way (my mom who has met him three times considers him a son), so it was a great honor to be invited to be in his wedding.  I’ve always wanted to be a groomsman but considering my circle of close friends, the odds aren’t good and the goods are odd [ ].  Now married, I realize the significance of choosing special people to support you in real and symbolic terms as you enter marriage and to be invited to perform a special role in the wedding of one of your favorite people is a rare and precious occurrence.

This is Tsedal and her mother.  Tsedal is a professor at the Harvard Business School.  She’s reasonably intelligent, entering Boston College at 15 and fluent in four languages. She met Lawrence while working on her PhD at Stanford.  She’s rad.  I can’t tell who is more lucky, her or Lawrence.  I’ll happily call it a tie.

Here is Lawrence and the “best man”.  I can’t find the words to put this eloquently but not counting me those guys have in order left to right, PhD ME Stanford + MIT postdoc, BA Princeton, MS ME Stanford + MDiv GTS (Episcopal Priest), PhD ME Stanford + Yale postdoc, PhD NYU (History professor U of DC).  Now, not counting President Obama, think of the last ten portrayals of black men you’ve seen on tv.  Compare and contrast.

Here’s me and my lovely lady, whose hair disagreed with the humidity as much as my sweat glands.

What’s the best way to get back from a big fancy wedding after you realize the limos are gone?  The bus!  Here Derek and Shelly pose after a long night of dancing.  Great people were the norm at this wedding.

You know what most weddings miss? 1) Another giant party the day after the first reception (Called a Melsi in Habesha (Ethiopian and Eritrean) culture). 2) Capes.  Seriously people think about it…

One thing the East coast has the West coast beat in spades is sites of historical significance.  Here is the giant penis they constructed on some hill outside of Boston, where something important happened, I guess.  They call it Bunker Hill now.  It has a museum and everything.

Leah, being a pastor, always wants to go in churches.  This one had private luxury boxes, which would be totally awesome because you could fall asleep, and no one would know.  It’s old too, and lots of people wanted to get inside… mostly to look at some lantern (weird).  I think it’s called Old North Church.

Leah was fascinated by the depictions of angels on the gravestones in the Granary Cemetery.  I thought it was old.

Here’s another old grave marker.

I get a little scared whenever Leah gets close to a university because I’m not always certain that I’ll be able to pry her away.  Here she is outside Harvard’s Memorial Hall, which was amazing.

In all it was a marvelous weekend, of which were we blessed to be part.  I came away feeling that I’d made new friends, danced as much as I ever had in two days, ate great food, and learned new customs.  What a party!  It was great meeting Tsedal and reconnecting with Lawrence.  I wish Boston wasn’t so far away.

Blessings on your marriage!