I spent this last weekend in Nashville attending the wedding of my sort-of son Kyle. Kyle grew up in my house, and he had my wife and me sit on the front row as co-father or associate father or Godfather or something like that. I had to wear a tux, which tells you the depth of my feelings for Kyle, as I hate tuxedos. I really, really hate tuxedos.
Anyway, on Friday night we had a grand time at the rehearsal dinner. You see, we have great Kyle stories, and his friends and family — surrogate and otherwise — had great fun at his expense. My daughter-in-law, who went through Harding with Kyle, took particular delight in poking fun at Kyle, especially so given how much fun he’d had at her expense at her wedding.
Toward the end of the evening, Kyle pulled out his guitar and sang a song about his pre-engagement days, called something like “I’m So Lonely and Bitter,” which was hilarious — and which poked fun back at my daughter-in-law. Well, she sidled up to me and asked me to please help her respond in kind. I said (and it’s very true), “It’s impossible to one up Kyle, because Kyle cannot be embarrassed. There’s nothing you can say about him, no matter how true, that will get him back.” His mother was part of the conversation, and readily conceded the point. You can’t embarrass someone who laughs at himself more quickly than he’ll laugh at others. He’s immune. Continue reading →