"Should we start a fight?" - My Dad.
It has been one week since my bachelor party. It is insane how fast time flies. I wait our entire lives for some moments, and in an instant, they are over. It has already been a week, and I wish I could go back to last weekend and relive the entire experience. Spending time with my family and friends is a luxury, and I often forget how special it can be.
We got off our red-eye flight from LAX to Philadelphia and immediately were reinvigorated. The sweet scent of the trash-filled air, the grit of the Philadelphia TSA, and the gray, overcast weather connected us right back to our roots; we are home. Someone pushed past us as we made our way through the terminal. They yelled something along the lines of, “Get the fuck out of my way, you pussies!” Philadelphia is a beautiful place.
A Wawa trip and a nap later and we were ready to get onto the festivities that were planned for us by friends and family. Every time Jamie and I head back to our home state of Pennsylvania; we immediately split up to see our different groups of friends and family. It is pretty incredible that I don’t see her until we meet back up at the airport days later at the end of the trip. We live together. I see here every day, but when we get back home to see our parents, we just wave goodbye and do our own thing.
I woke up from my nap on my mom’s couch and immediately had a beer. I am on vacation. It is my bachelor party weekend. I plan on being at least buzzed the entire time. Since I do not really drink anymore, I had to spend the week leading up to my bachelor party doing shots every night to rebuild my tolerance. I chatted with my mom for a while over a 10 am brew and decided to make my way over to my dad’s house. For those of you who have no idea who my father is, let me give you a quick rundown. He believes he is a 21-year-old and he also believes it is the year 1986. He usually is shirtless and wearing ripped jeans or something he found on the side of the road. He will drink you under the table and steal your woman. Motley Crue and Talking Heads are usually what is listening too. He loves to wander the neighborhood with his metal detector and can’t be caught without a beer in his had no matter what time it is. So, you can see why I would want to hang out with him immediately.
We spent the afternoon looking through his raised vegetable garden, playing frisbee, and taking down two 6-packs. The level of relaxation that we achieved was nothing short of incredible. I put my phone down and forgot about it. When was the last time you did that? I was fully immersed in the relaxation aided by the help of cheap American, canned beers.
I passed out for a long sleep sometime in the early night. We had to be up early for golf with the entire bachelor crew the next morning. Some of the bachelor party had never golfed a day in their lives. If you think my dad has golf, owns an acceptable pair of golf pants (or any pants for that matter), or knows the etiquette of golf, you’d be dead wrong. He showed up in his best-ripped jeans shorts and a case of Narragansett - safely stowed in a soft cooler of ice. We were ready to hit the links.
It is safe to say we finished all the beer and almost got in a fight on the 11th hole. By the time we reach the 11th, we were all a little drunk and taking our time aiming our shots. The foursome behind us yelled something along the lines of, “Hurry the fuck up, you drunk fucks!” None of us were having it. We were all in good moods and no one was going to stop us. All of us yelled back all the obscenities we could remember and were willing to start a fight in the middle of the course. I mean really, why would you start a fight with a group of drunk, blue collar, Philadelphia working men celebrating a bachelor party? “Fuck you, you mother fucking, fuck! I’ll shove this golf club down your throat if you say another god damn word! It’s my son’s bachelor party!” My father yelled. “Should we wait and beat the shit out of them? I got time.” My father asked all of us. I am not going to lie, there was a bit of a pause from all of us but we opted to keep the good vibes going and moved along, but not before we flipped them all of and threw shit at them for the remainder of the game. They never said another word and put up with our antics for the rest of the game.
Over the weekend, my family and friends all went golfing, drank, talked shit, and had a blast. All of my closest friends live across the country now. It was great to see those who had flown in to celebrate our upcoming wedding. For some of us, we hadn’t been home together in years, and we picked up right where we left off. These relationships are special. It is rare to find people that genuinely care about you and want to celebrate what you are doing. It is even harder to find someone who will care about you for decades to come. It is times like these where you learn who is in it for the long haul with you, and who was there for a few short bus stops.