This week, I'm at a week long wedding celebration. The young lady above is the bride. She's been a friend of my daughter, Kathy, ever since college, and she's been calling me "Pop" for the past twenty years. When you've been calling someone "Pop" for twenty years, you pretty much have to invite him to your wedding, which is how come I get to be here.
She's smart and nice. When a young lady has been calling you "Pop" for twenty years, you have to look after her, and satisfy yourself that her intended groom is worthy of her. I've met the groom. He's also smart and nice, and I'm happy about the match.
