Put the "best" into best man

Resslin' Around, by Casey Ressler

It was with much happiness that I found out a good friend of mine got engaged on Christmas Eve while on vacation (he knew the woman before he left on vacation, thankfully), but happiness turned to nervousness when he returned to Alaska and asked me to stand next to him at the July wedding.

I know one of the main reasons he asked me to stand up there was so that in the wedding pictures, he'll look like he has a much more full head of hair than he really does, when compared to my shiny dome. That's cool. I'm willing to be a follicle fall guy if need be.

But now, I've got to plan one of the most important days in his life, and I only have six months to do it. And I'm not talking about the wedding -- I'm talking about the bachelor party, that bastion of testosterone that every groom looks forward to, and then ultimately tries to forget once it happens. Legacies are born and killed, based solely on a bachelor party. Throw one that everybody talks about for years, and you are "The Dude Who Can Throw a Bachelor Party," a title any guy secretly covets. If it's a flop -- defined as a party in which the groom either ends up at home by 8 p.m., in jail by 9 p.m. or unconscious on a flight to Seattle by 10 p.m. -- you can't show your face around the group again.

For six months we'll be planning the ultimate guy night, and then we'll spend the next six months making sure none of the details leak, forcing a speedy, Britney Spears-like annulment, bringing guilty feelings that would linger much longer than the bachelor party hangover does.

For the big night, I've already ruled out my normal Saturday night activities -- playing Care Bears, coloring Dora the Explorer books and putting together Bob the Builder puzzles. That's why I'm enlisting the help of another wedding party member, fellow Frontiersmanite Jeremiah Bartz, whose social life doesn't involve a 3-year-old, a chalkboard and a sippee cup of Hi-C. He was the first person to tell me that a "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" marathon probably isn't the best choice for a rockin' good time.

Once the big day finally arrives, the best man is under the gun once again. You'd think that as a writer, I'd be able to come up with something decent to say in a toast, but the opposite is true. I even resorted to "googling" best man toasts on the Internet -- I felt ashamed for seven seconds -- only to find out that there are thousands of other clueless best men out there, many of whom are obviously shelling out $49.95 for a "personalized best man toast that saves you time and heartache," as one site said.

There were pages and pages of sites that offer toasts -- ranging in price from $9.95 to the aforementioned $49.95 model -- that you can customize for the groom in your life. Simply add the details -- how you know him, his interests, your interests, etc. -- and they'll spit you out a personalized toast that is sure to wow everyone at the wedding.

You have to ask yourself is 10 bucks too much to spend on a close friend on his wedding day? Think for a second, and any guy will probably agree with me -- no, you should wing it on the toast and roll that $10 back into the bachelor party, which you will talk about for a lot longer than you will the toast.

Undoubtedly, it'll be a fantastic wedding -- but all the groom has to do is show up and say yes a couple of times, truly preparing him for the rest of his life, when he'll say "yes honey" a few more million times. But for the best man, well, a wedding is a whole lot of work.

Casey Ressler (valleylife@frontiersman.com) is the Valley Life editor. He vaguely remembers his bachelor party.