Last night was honored to attend the wedding of my former roommate Todd and my friend Christa. Wedding reception, to be precise, at the botanical conservatory. The wedding was a smaller family and cameraman only affair before the meal. I arrived a little late after cleaning up from moving my stuff to my apartment earlier, and dinner had already started. I was pretty sure this was the right place. All wedding parties look the same until you recognize someone you know. In this case, Andrew, my friend and conscience during college spotted me and called to me from where he was sitting. I hadn't seen him in a long time. His hair was always long in college, then he cut it short a while back, and now it's getting longer again. This may sound rather pedestrian, but it's significant to me. We were the two long-haired art students, you see.

The wedding reception was outdoors in a tent on a beautiful evening. It was idyllic, really, not a cloud in the sky. It's what you get when two artists get married. There were little girls who I assumed to be her cousins wearing wreathes of orange leaves who were darting around laughing as little kids are prone to do. A band was playing acoustic music, sometimes featuring a seven-year-old fiddle player who was really good.

I went to drop off my wedding present on the designated table and then to congratulate Todd and Christa. They were both much cleaner than I had seen them in years. Todd was clean shaven with a neatly trimmed goatee, and Christa didn't have any paint on her hands. Other people at their table looked more familiar, though. Marlon had his Canon XL-1s with a big shoulder-rig and eight-inch digital display. James was alternately using Todd's 16mm Bolex camera and Super-8 camera. He handed me the Super-8 for when the bride and groom danced together and with their parents. All was right with the world, then. Just like in college, Todd was directing, and James, Marlon, and I were shooting footage. I can't wait to see the final edited product. Rachel, James's wife and professional photographer, was shooting still images with a professional digital camera that made me quietly drool with deadly-sin level envy.

James pulled me aside and told me that Todd was going to play a song that he wrote for Christa as a surprise, and I needed to film that too. Armed with the Super-8 I filmed Todd playing his guitar and her reaction to the song. It was one he wrote back when we lived in an apartment. I remember him staying up all night writing and playing, and a couple of days later the apartment office gave us a notice that we'd been too loud because of the guitar sound all night. I slept through it, so it wasn't that loud at all, but the lady next door didn't like it.

We all sat around talking and catching up on everything we'd done at and since USF. I got to talk to Christa's Mom briefly, too. I always had oddly spontaneous conversations with her, like the time she called Todd and I's dorm room looking for Christa. She was out with Todd, so we ended up having a nice conversation about art history and things to see in Italy. I also saw Todd's lifelong friend Russell, to whom I am forever indebted because he got me a Smashing Pumpkins ticket back when they were at Purdue.

It was an enjoyable wedding reception. I like those two together, and I can only say that about a certain number of people. I know some couples who I don't think will last more than ten years, but I'm confidant that Todd and Christa have a long, crazy life ahead of them.