Mostly rambles, few brambles
Buddy of the Groom
Aren’t you tired of going to wedding after wedding where the groomsmen selection reeks of nepotism? You glare at the line up and think, “Boy, this family has a lot of weird chins.” The platoon of pocked and doubled then sleepwalks through uninspired reception entrances—derivations of derivations—and the best man’s speech is nothing but heaped platitudes, essentially a graduation card. “Jesus,” you think, “this two-hundred-dollar-a-plate wedding really cut some corners.”
Obtaining positions by default and birthright while ignoring merit and profile aesthetics is archaic. I don’t often shill, but, when I do, I try to shed light on the weird-chin epidemic, despite the unnerving, resulting shadows. What I’m driving at, is that this form of infotainment is long overdue.
Prompted by such necessity, a bestie of mine, the Chicago-based comedian Mike O’Keefe, has developed a groomsmen vetting method. Ignoring all scientific research, his podcast, Buddy of the Groom, asks a slew of funny guests the tough, subjective questions intended to separate the Bologna Boys from the Bologna Jabronis (both terms gender neutral). Best of all, this brainchild of a manchild is free on Apple, Stitcher, and Spotify, and, since it’s a podcast, Mike looks at all the weird chins for us!
Necessity? You ask, sharp tongued, clearly no idea how to be respectfully skeptical.
Yes, Mike’s terribly funny girlfriend, Mallory, is a sweet, much more popular person than Mike. With all of her friends, she’d have enough to fill out the bridal party and have enough left over to run an aircraft carrier. Yes, her charm is potent enough to staff a floating city. All of Mike’s friends, ever, could maybe staff a tandem bike.
Wait, you continue, still tactless, this premise sounds like something I watched once on an airplane.
Correct, you likely saw beautiful leading man Paul Rudd in I Love You, Man: a movie where a guy in a sweater befriends a guy with a scooter. I feel asleep for part of it, too. I did, however, glean that neither me nor Mike—scruffy, loud Midwestern-types—are likeable or handsome enough to pull off a romp like this. Hence, when Mike told me about his interview-game-show podcast ripe with ASMR tributes, southern lawyers, and a generous definition of the term “Bane impression”, I was relieved he was vetting potential groomsmen so he won’t embarrassed himself on Mallory’s big day.
How much is Mike paying you? The covetous query seethes off your thin lips. Your mind starts calculating the range of figures I could say that would still leave you feeling superior.
For this post, Mike is paying me in friendship: a currency immune to inflation, though can be prone to other kinds of devaluation.
The links up top work great. Should your scrolling skill set be lacking, he is also searchable on Google. If you end up with pictures of former Detroit Tigers pitcher Buddy Groom, a mediocre starter turned mediocre reliever, type more words and search again.