A Thought
A Bachelor Party at a Bookstore
When I was heading into my bachelor party, I was faced with all the typical assumptions that come with the idea a boy has when he’s first introduced to the concept: one’s best man would plan everything, there would be some shenanigans involving alcohol, and at some point there would be an introduction of strippers into the equation, and the bachelor would be put in compromising positions that no one would ever speak of again. It would help foster a shared bond, and provide a foundation for future friendship.
Reality, though, is quite different from the movies. The bachelor parties that I have been able to attend and the accounts of people close to me have often indicated that rather than presenting a spectacle, bachelor parties are far more about fraternal connection than hedonistic debauchery.
Some of the earliest accounts of what went into a bachelor party did involve the elements of celebration that are common enough: people drank and went to the club, but these were few and far between. More typical was that the groomsmen got together over a weekend, perhaps drank a little too much, and shared good food and conversation with friends who wanted the best for him. A few people even shared that their whole bachelor party was spent on a fishing boat, quietly waiting for something to bite.
It may be that part of why people push stories of debauchery for bachelor parties is because they’re attempting to market an idea of masculinity that’s grounded in hardship and strength more than connection. Alcohol consumption, blaring music, and late-night escapades are seen as indicators of someone’s own hardiness, their ability to endure and survive even under harsh physical conditions that are largely simulated. If disease is kept in check, warlords aren’t likely to pillage your home, and you don’t really need to be married to survive, then how can you know whether you’re man enough to be a good husband?
While some may believe these stories, there’s a far more complicated picture that comes when it’s time to pack the bags and head out for the weekend. Instead of a schedule filled with mischief and reminders of all the options for sexual gratification, there was a deference instead to what would make the bachelor feel celebrated, and a far greater interest in sharing company with one another than there was for casual interactions in a smoke-filled club.
While every aspect of the experience is enjoyable, there are always a few memories that stick out, and mine was perhaps a nerdy one: we visited a bookstore, and though I was a little nervous about it — would I remember it as cliche or not worth the time? Would people tease me about it after? — I found that everyone in the party got lost almost immediately among the shelves, and stayed that way for the better part of an hour. Books have always been important to me as a reader and writer, and to see some of the most significant guys in my life become interested so quickly and stay interested so long reminded me of the power books and stories have to shape our experience of the world around us.
Some stories may entertain us with ideas of hedonistic indulgence, but ultimately, the thing people enjoy the most is the ability to connect with others through shared experience, mutual respect, and the ability to see value in things that may reflect some differences from our own, but are frequently closer on the shelves than we would like to imagine.
A Feel Good Place
Finding Connection at Dead King Bread
Since college, I have been baking my own bread; it’s a hobby that started while studying abroad and refined through many years of feedback and research, but it’s also given me a deep appreciation for the ways that artisanal bakers have managed to create things I have only dreamed about.
As a consequence of this, my wife and I make it a point to spend a little time visiting independent bakers so that we can indulge a little in the artistry of a well-made loaf of bread or pastry. Sometimes, it leads to a recognition that more workouts are needed, but more often than not, it brings a bit of joy to our lives, and a deeper appreciation for the power that comes with being able to create a culinary experience others appreciate.
One day, while I was driving to work, I saw a sign hanging beneath the sign of a lumberyard in Roxborough advertising a place called “Dead King Bread.” It was a curious place to have a bakery, but a little research into the business and a scan of some reviews made me curious enough to want to go.
When my wife and I arrived for the first time, shortly before they opened since we knew they sold out regularly, we assumed it would be like most of the other bakeries we visited: a bit busy, maybe a little crowded, but ultimately streamlined enough for people to get in and get out in short order. Instead, we found a line that snaked its way through the lumber yard and beginning to overflow into the parking lot.
Fortunately we got to try some of the pastries and breads, and it became a quick favorite of ours. It also offered me a few lessons about business that I noted down on LinkedIn.
Something Read
SMALL THINGS LIKE THESE BY CLAIRE KEEGAN
Bill Furlong is a coal and fuel merchant who has been living in New Ross, Ireland for most of his life. One Christmas, as he’s delivering to the local convent, he comes across several girls who look neglected, and Bill has to decide whether it’s worth going against the town to do what he feels is right.
For Casual Readers: The book will likely appeal to anyone who’s looking for a good book to add to their Irish literature reading list, but it would also be right at home with any winter holiday book club selections.
For Writers: The book offers a great example of how to evoke setting and character development without spending lots of time illustrating it for the reader. It also provides some cultural context if a writer is looking to set their story in Ireland, though it shouldn’t be considered all-encompassing.
What Comes Next
The next issue is already being built out, but if you’re interested, here’s what you can expect from the next newsletter:
A breakdown of what it’s like to return to coursework after time away from grad school
A discussion of what I know about bad apples, bad apple barrels, and how both influence organizations
A review of a book that actually surprised me with its combination of humor and espionage
Finally, while this project may be a space where I share some of the things I have been thinking of, I also want to make sure it delivers value for you. So if you have feedback on what you would like to see, let me know and your recommendation may make it into the next issue.
