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We escaped to Wisconsin for the weekend and met up with Moira and Mike, two of our longtime friends. Kelley and I had just started dating when I went to their wedding five years ago, but Moira and I go farther back -- to the University of Iowa, the Daily Iowan, the Deadwood and Joe's cup night.

M-n-M have impeccable taste, and their celebration was quaint and personal. My favorite part was when they exited the country church to Mike's brother (a former flight attendant) clanking away "When I'm 64" on the piano. A Pogues coverband had the guests dancing all night.

Certainly there were mishaps. My camera was stolen, and I insulted a girl by talking about pubic hair at dinner. But hey, I was at my best friend's wedding. Who had time to keep track of electronics or manners?

Moira has agreed to be our sounding board for taste and to the impart lessons to be learned from their evening. First off, she recommends not letting people get trashed before dinner. (Hence the camera being stolen and pubic hair being a hot topic.) Second, she says I should shuttle my lust for cala lilies in favor of sweet peas. Lilies, says the former florist, are over done.