Today we’re in the same neighborhood of Montreal that we were in twelve years ago this weekend. We ate breakfast in the same intersection. We walked around on the same sidewalks. The weather is the same: cool, wet. And even though the circumstances of our visit are different, and not as fun, it feels really nice to be here now.

We’re actually two days away from the day we stood on these steps with all those people. With my dad looking more like the groom than me. With good people from our two lives merging and converging.

That happened on the sixth.

The fourth. What happened on the fourth? Let’s see…oh yeah.

The fourth was the evening, twelve years ago, that I found myself naked on stage of a strip club called Chez Paris in Old Montreal in front of the entire bridal party.