I did not attend a bachelor party this weekend. I swear. Oh, sure, it was a group of six or seven guys, getting together on the weekend before one of our weddings. And yes, we did traditional bachelor party things, like play a round of golf (see below) and eat at a semi-swanky restaurant. But this was no bachelor party. There were no chicks, drugs, guns, or fire trucks. This was a "Guy-a-thon." And there is a big difference. At a "Guy-a-thon," the very essence of manliness is much more important than really doing manly things. A fine line, no? But that fine line is where my friends and I live. Every day in America, thousands of men see fit to do really manly things. Many of them are bachelor party related. But why would you actually get a stripper when the thought that you could get a stripper is just as titillating?

Herein, my basic premise: In the 90’s, you can talk the talk, but be very careful if you decide to walk the walk. Turns out, Andre Agassi was right – Image is everything. At least, for now. So, if I tell you I was at a bachelor party this weekend, and your mind immediately fills with images of all the hedonistic pleasures I might have enjoyed, do I really need to do those things? Hasn’t the concept of "bachelor party" conveyed enough of the experience that I really don’t have to go through the trouble of hiring a stripper, drinking myself into oblivion, etc.? I must confess, neither the groom, nor myself (the best man) drink alcohol, so the "go out and get blind drunk" thing was destined not to be a part of our "Guy-a-thon."

Instead, we had a hell of a good time watching our friends soberly fall all over themselves at a golf course (like we did any better; scores below). I learned a lot about golf, and a lot about my buddy Frank, the groom in this upcoming weekend’s ceremony. (Read more about Frank and his amazing family on the Miracle Baby page; he’s finally getting married!) Just what did I learn about Frank? Two very important things: One, he used to take golf lessons with PGA pro Loren Roberts. How can this guy be my best friend, and I didn’t know that? Two, the golf lessons didn’t do any good.

So this weekend, it’s up to San Luis Obispo for the wedding of the century. Whee! I’m sure that will be a major focus of next week’s dispatch. Maybe seeing Frank get married will inspire me to ask a girl out. You never know – stranger things have happened. Witness my par score on the 166 yard par 3 fourth hole below.