Brothers and Blessings

Hookers and blow for a stag party ain’t it. Rather, my brother, cousins, and I, whenever one of us has found a woman amenable to holy matrimony, have either gone up to the cottage to race machines through the woods and sit around a campfire, or we’ve gone out to race different machines and then sit around a wooden table laden with roast beast. There’s more than a tipple enjoyed at either, but keeping it low-key is the rule. A man ought not act a fool, least of all as he prepares to care for a woman already too good for him.

My baby brother Moses (originally plucked from the Sheboygan River using a Zurheide ice-cream tub twenty-some years ago) was to marry his bride in Dallas. The two met in the Air Force while working on C-17s — forsooth, what’s more romantic than wrenching on a bird that can disgorge an M1 Abrams battle tank?

About the Author

Luther Ray Abel

Luther Ray Abel is an Associate Editor for National Review. A veteran of the U.S. Navy, Luther is a proud native of Sheboygan, Wis.

Hookers and blow for a stag party ain’t it. Rather, my brother, cousins, and I, whenever one of us has found a woman amenable to holy matrimony, have either gone up to the cottage to race machines through the woods and sit around a campfire, or we’ve gone out to race different machines and then sit around a wooden table laden with roast beast. There’s more than a tipple enjoyed at either, but keeping it low-key is the rule. A man ought not act a fool, least of all as he prepares to care for a woman already too good for him.

My baby brother Moses (originally plucked from the Sheboygan River using a Zurheide ice-cream tub twenty-some years ago) was to marry his bride in Dallas. The two met in the Air Force while working on C-17s — forsooth, what’s more romantic than wrenching on a bird that can disgorge an M1 Abrams battle tank?