be a good groomsman.

Good day, Grown Men, and welcome to day two of wedding week! Today, we’re going to throw down the gauntlet for the groomsmen.  The groomsmen is likely the most misunderstood job of the entire wedding as it appears, at first blush, that there’s not much for them to do other than usher, stand, and party.  But I say, “Nay, groomsmen – you’re the infantry, the back up, the groom’s [dramatic pause] men!”  You’ve got an important role, and one that we need to discuss.

Here at You’re a Grown Man,  I try hard not to retread the same content that’s been written about, ad nauseam, all over ye ole’ internet.  Because of this stance, I’m going to just shoot myself in the foot and tell you that there are a number of good sources to get the specifics of the groomsmen job.  I found a solid one on TheKnot.com, but there are others if you simply ask Jeeves.  That being said, today I’m going to cover some of the lesser discussed points of groomsmen etiquette in order to advance the cause of nuptial knowledge (it’s sort of an alliteration, isn’t it?).  Here we go…

-Be supportive in bachelor party planning. While it’s typically the best man’s job to organize the details of the Stag Night, the groomsmen have multiple opportunities to step up and take some of the burden. In my real life, I’m in the midst of being a best man and planning the bachelor party. The other day, I casually mentioned to one of the groomsmen that we should go fishing as part of the weekend.  His immediate response was, “Awesome idea, my brother has a ton of gear, I’ll make sure he brings it, we’re set on fishing.”  Whew.  Thanks, groomsman!  Now I can focus my energies on more important things like figuring out how many PBR’s will fit in a Volkswagen-sized-cooler and where in the world I can get a child-size Wham! t-shirt for the groom to mandatorily wear all night.

-Be supportive in finances. Groomsmen-to-be, here’s what you’re going to need to pay for.
1-Your tux rental, suit purchase, or whatever the bridegroom tells you to wear. I pre-apologize if that chap asks you to buy some huge, frumpy, linen shirt for his beach wedding – yuck.
2- Your share of the bachelor party, pre-wedding party, or whatever the best man invites you to.  The best man should be very open about finances, hopefully he will be after reading tomorrow’s post.
3- Drinks and food.  If you see your groom heading to the bar or flagging down a waiter, you absolutely must intercept that guy with a “Oh hell no.  I’m buying.”  Grooms don’t pay for anything.
4-Anything else, within reason, that you’re asked to buy. If you get a text 30 minutes before the ceremony that reads “Oh shiz, I forgot…can u pick up shaving cream, a box of condoms, and shoe polish?” – do it.  And don’t ask for repayment – it’s just part of the job.

-Be supportive of the bride, bridal party, parents, pastor, florist, photographer, cookie table attendant, etc., etc.,. The days before the wedding, not to mention the actual day, are fraught with little details, changes in plans, and last minute freak-outs.  Every wedding has them, no matter how fantastic the wedding coordinator is – unless it’s J. Lo.  Anyhow, your role as a groomsman is to pay attention and help out as needed.  Let’s say you overhear one of the bridesmaids saying, “Oh no, I forgot my purse in the car, and it’s raining!”  Guess what fella, this is now your job.  Her updo won’t survive the downpour.  There are a zillion examples like this one that could illustrate my point.  However, I will leave you with this – pay attention to everything that’s happening and do whatever you can to make the day a tiny bit smoother.

And finally…

-Support the groom. Your main job, by far, is to make sure your groom is as care-free as possible.  This guy has got a lot on his mind and really doesn’t need to be focusing on anything other than that sweet woman who he’ll be meeting up with in a few moments.  Sometimes, support looks like sneaking him a little preview from the bar and having a laugh. Sometimes, it looks like saying “No way man, I’ll make sure your aunt has directions to the reception.”  Support can take on a lot of forms, but the overarching point that I’m trying to make is that it must be given.  The role of the groomsman is not one of simply attending and leaving, it’s one of doing the stuff that nobody got assigned and, usually, nobody is being asked to do.

Grown Men, be good groomsman – I know you can do it.

Tomorrow, the best man…

be a good wedding guest.

It’s wedding week here on You’re A Grown Man and I, for one, am really excited about this.  Every day I’m going to tackle one of the major roles a fella can play in a wedding (guest, groomsmen, best man, and groom). Also, we might have a super-special fifth post – oh the excitement!  In any event, it’s going to be glorious.

Grown Man, why are you pimping out your sick blog for an entire week!?  I hate weddings!

You can moan and groan all you want, but you’re going to have to attend a wedding at some point.  And, while I know you’d rather be doing literally anything other than jumping around to Love Shack for the thousandth time with a belly full of chicken or fish and a half gallon of bottom shelf beer, you’ve got to go.  Tiiiiiiiiiiiiiin roof – rusted (busted?)

Alright, leading off our series today is the concept that you should be a good wedding guest.  We’re going to do this in all bullet points because really, not much is expected of you other than to not be a doofus.  However, it is my civic duty to give you some specific pointers and save you from yourself.  Allow me to begin…

– RSVP, ASAP. Gentlemen, you disappoint people at every turn with your inability to return a call or email.  However, when you forget to do those things, it’s just impolite and usually not that big of a deal.  But when you don’t RSVP, your name remains blank on guest_list.xls and you become an increasingly heavy millstone around the neck of those who give a crap about place cards and wedding favors.  You may not understand how much work goes in to planning a wedding, but believe me – it’s a lot.  Répondez s’il vous plaît! Sorry to yell at you in French.

– Bring a gift. I’ve already written a beautiful and touching expository on this so I’ll leave it to myself to prove my own point.  Bottom line: You have no choice, bring a gift THAT’S ON THE REGISTRY.

– Figure out your own transportation and lodging. The bride and groom may be kind enough to include a suggested hotel in their wedding announcement.  But if they don’t, you really can’t call them and add your needs to their plate.  Again, they’ve got a lot to do and you’re a big boy who can figure out his own life.

-Never be the center of attention. “Center of attention! What ever could you mean!?” Oh, I don’t know: getting sloppy drunk, being loud, walking around and getting in the background of every picture, dancing a little too close for too long with the 15 year old cousin (yes, I’ve seen it), stealing all the disposable table cameras and taking 500 pictures of your junk (yes, I’ve seen it), signing the guestbook 15 times with names like “Gary Coleman” and “Your Balls” (yes, I’ve seen it), etc., etc.  It’s okay to have fun and yuck it up with your pals, but anybody’s wedding other than your own is not about you – it’s about them.  Be cool, broseph.

-Thank someone for the party. Somebody in that room paid for your booze, tiny mesh bag of dinner mints, and 55-year-old chronically depressed D.J.  You really should say thank you.  Customarily, the bride’s parents flip the bill and ought to be the recipients of your hearty hand shake and genuine (non-drunk) thanks.  However, you can always just play it safe and thank the bride and groom for their generosity.  It’s good to be grateful.

-Don’t leave too soon. Let’s say the reception is booooooring, and I mean really unbearably terrible.  Well buddy, you’re just going to have to wait it out.  Listening to awkward speeches in a gross VFW with terrible food is probably only comparable to the 6th or 7th circle of hell.  However, you’ve got to stay until the cake has been cut and served.  There’s no getting around it – that’s just the way it is.

Before we go, I’ve got one more…

-Keep your tie on! There’s something about the reception that seems to beckon men to ditch the tie and unbutton the top button.  This is not acceptable.  I don’t care if the ceremony is in Sub-Saharan Africa or you’ve just been challenged to a dance-off by freaking J.T. himself, you’ve got to remain fully dressed.  Your tie may come off when, and only when, the bride’s parents leave.  When they’re gone, the reception just turned into an after-party and, my good friend, it’s time to Watusi like it’s 1999!

That’s all for today.  Tomorrow, I shall take the groomsmen to task.

A very special thanks to @accessoriesdiva, @chrisstorms, @krisarruda, @mahfrot, @perpetualpeeve, @sholeh, and @joelrakes for the Tweets that gave a lot of good content to this weeks series.

finish your letters like an adult.

Dear Grown Men,

Today, I’m going to be educating you on two finer points of writing that have been both butchered and forgotten among today’s gentlemen. First, I’m going to talk about how to write a proper closing. Second, I’m going to force you to stop using the P.S. For the remainder of this post, every time I say the world letter, I’m also referring to emails – because the rules for email are the same as the rules for letters.

gut groan man, i dont capitalize, right in full sentences, or even read my emails before i send them 🙂

I know you don’t – and it makes you look uneducated. The rules for a proper letter are ALWAYS in play when writing an email. Back to the post.

The closing of a letter is the spot right above your name where you say, essentially, see ya later. The actual term for this part of a letter is called the valediction, which, I’m pretty sure teachers knew wouldn’t fly with 5th grader vocabulary and switched it to the much easier closing. In any event, the closing is my favorite part of the letter.

The closing is your final opportunity to convey the tone of the letter and respectfully leave the conversation. Here are some rules for the closing:

1- No more than four words. The real beauty of the closing is getting someone to feel something with perfectly chosen words. As the cliché goes, less is more.

2- You must always have a closing. I don’t know how we lost this, but it’s not okay to end with simply your name. And, while I fear I may have been guilty of this, it’s got to end. There is no reason not to give someone even a trite good-bye. Your letter might be a full on rant to the manager of Fatty Mart for not allowing you to buy full cases of beef jerky at a discount. But that poor manager still deserves, at least, a meager amount of appreciation for reading your insanity.

3- Be appropriate with your valediction. For instance, I have a few of them that I use for specific occasions:

Default (always works): Kind regards,
Writing to a friend: Peace and good things,
Responding to someone who’s mad at me: Respectfully,
Someone I don’t know: Sincerely,

4- The closing is a fantastic time to be funny and bring back a joke from earlier in the letter. For these, I like the Arrested Development style jokes that you have to really be paying attention to in order to get. Here me say this though, you may not be funny – and that’s okay! Just know when to say when, less you make a fool of yourself. I’ll end this post with an example.

That’s all for the closing, now I’m going to blow your mind with this next point. The P.S. must die.

Here’s why the postscript exists. Back in the day, when gentlemen wrote with pens or, further back, when they wrote with a quill, they would spend a great deal of time crafting the document. However, as is naturally the case, they might forget something and be faced with the quandary of going back and rewriting for a half hour, or simply make a generally accepted concession and tack on a P.S. The P.S. was a tremendously helpful tool and is still a great option for those of us who are hand writing a note.

Did you catch that? Hand writing a note. Today, a vast majority of our letters are typed and there’s simply no need for us to tack on P.S. because we forgot something. All we have to do is scroll up, revise, and move forward. The modern day postscript has become a way for us to not think and just tack on light-bulbs that turned on after we finished our stream of consciousness rant. For real, nothing typed may have a postscript – it’s lazy.

And, as a side note, P.P.S., P.P.P.S and the like are literally never acceptable. Even if you’re freaking chiseling that note into granite, you’ve got to start over.

That’s all for today. Have a tremendous weekend.

Forever Fatty Mart,
GM

P.S. It was an easy joke.
P.S.S. For real, you can never use this.

Ask a Grown Man: Vol. VI

“Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends!”

In one of your posts, you said that grown men should not call radio shows.  Does this stand on posting comments to blogs like yours?
-Brian Strickland

Life of Brian,

You’ve asked a fine question, my good man. Let me first say this – for real, thanks for reading through the old posts where I was trite, poorly edited, and not really focused on good content (Stop Ice Skating?!).  And, while I never go back and edit a post, I’d give my left – foot – to have another crack at Buy a Suit and Open Her Door. Oh well.  Like sand through an hour-glass, these are the days of our lives.

Back to your question.  I still maintain that calling radio shows is usually a poor decision.  In rare cases of great contests, it’s okay.  But for the most part, we use radio shows to throw out information in a non-relational way that really doesn’t move the ball forward.  And, while commenting on blogs could be viewed the same way, there’s a part of me that has to squelch the curmudgeonly old man inside and yield to a new way of communicating. For instance, yesterday’s Know How to Cook post yielded comments that were chock-full of good discussion, helpful resources, a few laughs, and even a bit of dissension.

There is a line, however.  This line is crossed when we begin to argue with each other and hide behind the anonymity that only the internet can provide.  At that point, there’s nothing that can replace a hearty handshake, a cup of coffee, and a thorough discussion on why men must Stop Wearing Skinny Jeans.  As the writer of this here blog, I have a responsibility to mind the funny/helpful vs. obnoxious/hurtful line.  As commenters and Grown Men, we should always be checking our motivations.

Your comments are welcome,
GM

How/when did you know you had achieved “grown man” status?
-Jodi
jodidey.tumblr.com

Jodi,

Oh boy, do I want to be funny right now.  I want my answer to be, “I knew I was a Grown Man the first time I tipped my hat to a lady while riding a horse” or “I knew I was a Grown Man when Tommy Lee Jones and Robert Duvall released a joint statement affirming that the testosterone-torch was now mine to carry.”  Sadly though, none of those answers are true.

The truth is, I achieve Grown Man status every day when I wake up and say to myself, “Today, I’m going to try hard to be a better man.”  I achieve Grown Man status when I make an extra effort to learn something new, focus on the world around me (and not me), practice a dying form of etiquette, or simply show kindness.  Conversely, there are many times when I fall short and don’t feel very good about the guy I’m being.  However, it’s in those moments that I try to remember that being a Grown Man isn’t about being perfect, it’s about trying – hard – everyday to up the bar for myself and the world that I live in.

Grown Man (before The Postman)

Okay, I’d like to be funny one more time before the post ends.  “I knew I was a Grown Man when I killed a tatonka and ate its still beating heart.”

Good question, Jodi,
GM (or at least trying)

Thank you for reading and being supportive of this Grown Man.  Until next week, keep asking those great questions…

know how to cook.

Being a foodie is so hot right now.  Oh yes, we love saying things like, “Mmm, that was amazing, a perfect mix of savory and sweet!” and “Oh my gosh, I found the best farmers market!  They have organic Swiss Chard!”  Oh Lord, you love you so much, don’t you? Yet, while we are entrenched in an era where culinary know-how is readily available and oh-so-chic, many gentlemen continue to not know the difference ramen and ricciutelle.  Oh no, wait, I’ve got a better one, between Boyardee and Bourdain.  Now that’s comedy gold.

Grown Men, you need to know how to cook.  And, while I shouldn’t have to write hundreds of words about this, I know that for you to turn the corner and actually get your Foie gras on, I’m going to have to do some explaining.  First,  the why…

The why is simple.  You like good food and you are (or should be) an independent person. Therefore, you shouldn’t rely on others to provide that good food.  And when I’m talking about relying on others, I’m referring to  your mom, your significant other, or a restaurant.  None of the aforementioned are responsible for you, and none of them should carry the weight of Hamburger Helping you eat better.

The fact is, men are losing the ability to make their own way in life.  We no longer mow our own yards, we don’t consider fixing the broken appliance, and we assume that a fancy feast must be acquired – not made.  And while it’s fun to have a dining experience, it shouldn’t be the default.  Hear me say this, it’s fantastic when your special lady-friend hooks you up with a nice meal.  And, there’s nothing like going home and eating a plate full of mom’s homemade nostalgia.  But those experiences aren’t the norm and you, Grown Man, should be able to create meals that are enjoyable and out of the box.  Well, not literally out of a box, more like motivational office poster out of the box.

Alright, alright, Grown Man, I’m convinced!  I’ll substitute one of my three All-You-Can-Eat-Wing nights for something I cook on my own.  Oh, but wait, I can’t cook anything.  Guess I’m ignoring your advice again.

Good segue, “fake person who I created to help me move between thoughts rapidly”.  Now that you know the why, let’s talk about the how.  Because the truth is, a ton of guys just don’t know how to cook.   I’m always shocked at the number of really good fellas whose ability is limited to grilling something terribly (every guy thinks he can grill, few of them can, that’s a future post) or limited to “cooking” a bowl of Captain Crunch.  Oh Captain, my Captain, mmmmmmmmm.  Anyhow, here are some easy ways to start learning.

1- Start with basic stuff.  Learn how to make a good pancake, a passable chicken dish, and some common sides (mashed potatoes, green beans, etc.).  Starting basic and learning the properties of food will naturally lead you to more complicated dishes.

2- Find out what cookbook your grandma uses and buy that one.  My grandma uses The Joy of Cooking and The Betty Crocker Cookbook.*  Both of these cookbooks are the quintessential Cooking 101 textbooks.  They’re not going to give you the worlds best recipe for a soufflé, but you’ll make a killer apple pie – which is a great and delicious start.

But I’m a man, I don’t read directions and I’m sure as hell not going to read a recipe!

Here’s a freebie, You’re a Grown Man, either read directions or be a lot smarter than you are. Back to the post…

3- Spend some time with people who you know that can cook.  Nothing works better than an apprenticeship.  If your buddy is inviting you over for some succulent sockeye on Friday, offer a high-quality, independently brewed, six-pack in exchange for peeking over his shoulder as he preps your dinner.  You’ll be swimming up-stream at first, but then it’ll all start to make sense.

4- If you really get into it and want to learn a ton of great techniques, recipes, and tricks, check out Rouxbe, an on-line cooking school.*

Grown Men, give some thought to your food and start raising the bar on what you can do for yourself.  Even if you crash and burn a few times, the effort will be noticed (yes, by girls) and appreciated.  Bon Appetit!

*None of the mentioned books or sites are advertising with me and, likely, have no idea who I am.

quit freaking out about babies.

I like babies and dogs, I always have.  There’s something about those two creatures that just makes me exceedingly happy.  I’m assuming it’s because they don’t talk.  Maybe it’s because I find amusement in something that slobbers.  In any event, my heartfelt affinity for babies is not common for a man – and I’m okay with that.  But what I’m not cool with is how much crap I’ve gotten for liking babies (men seem to make allowances for dogs).  Countless friends of mine have said, “Oh man, I’m glad you like babies…but they freak me out!” or “Wow, you should really have a kid since you like babies so much.”

Grown Men, you need to quit freaking out about babies.  So many of you are afraid that:

1- You’ll drop them.
2- You won’t know what to do EVEN if you just hold one for a few minutes.
3- Your lady-friend will think you’re hinting that it might be time to start “trying”.

Allow me to refute these points:

You’ll drop them.: No, you wont.  Think of it this way, at the end of a long evening at the local pub, you’re able to hold a pint even when you’re tired and half-in-the-bag. That glass is made out of, you guessed it, glass, and would shatter time and time again if you were as clumsy as you perceive yourself to be.  Furthermore, babies aren’t as delicate as guys think they are.  Have you ever seen a delivery?  Me neither.  But from what I’ve been told, the nurses and doctors are far from our definition of gentle.  Apparently, they move swiftly with the babies and hit them on the back so they’ll cough up any remaining ectoplasm.  You see what I’m getting at? Dr. Venkman knows what he’s doing and you, my gentle-man, are not going break a baby.  My advice is to sit down the first few times.  The mom or dad will get what you’re doing and will gladly hand you the little-buddy when you’re situated.  All you have to do is sit and do nothing – which you’re naturally a pro at.

You won’t know what to do…: Well, this is kinda true actually.  If you’re freaked out by holding a baby, then you’ve likely never changed a diaper, taught your daughter how to ride a bike, or given your son “the talk”.  However, enjoying a baby isn’t about those things – nobody is asking you to raise the kid just because you’ve taken a few minutes to hold one.  In fact, if the worst case scenario happens and they either a)start crying or b)load up the diaper, the parents are going to know immediately that you, a total amateur, are not able to handle these scenarios and they’re going to politely snag Bonzo back and do what they do (and you don’t) – parent.

Your lady-friend will think you’re ready to start “trying”.: Oh geez, this one’s just a total cop-out.  There isn’t a Grown Woman in the world who thinks your ready to be a dad just because you allow yourself the pleasure of holding a baby.  When she watches you, she’s thinking, “God, his mom’s going to be a freaking nightmare if we ever have a kid.”  Listen up, I know you love “practicing” and aren’t ready to “try” – and that’s okay.  But when the time is right, you’ll know.  You and the Mrs. will talk about it like adults and turn that corner together.  Holding a baby won’t force the issue.

Molly and Grown Man

A few weeks ago, I got the rare opportunity of holding an 11-hour-old baby.  Her name is Molly and she is, as far as I can tell, a perfect baby.  She smelled exactly like a new baby should, made clicking sounds as she breathed, and had exceedingly soft ears. I loved my time with Molly.  As I sat there for 30 minutes holding her, I couldn’t help but think about her at 5-years old, running around in the park, at 18-years-old, descending the stairs in a prom dress, and at 30-years-old, with a family of her own.

At this point, I realize  the male readers have Apple-Q‘d this page and the female readers are all that’s left.  But for the few guys that have made it to this point, you’ve got to hear that holding a baby is about looking at someone else and seeing hope and promise.  Just like I look past your dead-fish handshake and see a possible Grown Man.