Redundant, say you.
No, say I.

Bachelor Parties aren’t really for bachelors, they’re for almost married guys. And there’s a big difference between living alone with no promises made and having a fiancé, a caterer, a hall, a guest list and your parents in town.

Just because the ring is in your pocket doesn’t mean you’re still a bachelor. The ring going on your finger is a technicality. And technicalities don’t count in matters of love.

The bachelor party I attended recently began at 8 a.m. Yes, as other bachelor party attendees stumbled home in a bleary-eyed haze, I sauntered by bright eyed and bushy tailed, sober and chaste, on my way to a sensible breakfast in Glen Park. From there we went south to shoot clay pigeons.

The reason for this was that the bride-to-be had expressed extreme duress over our going to a more traditional venue. I believe the direct quote was, “No f—ing lap dances.”

At first I was as disappointed as you. There are few things as much fun as going to a strip club when it is not your idea. “I’m not really like this – just here with the boys – being supportive – trying to help the ball club – hey you’re pretty.”

On the drive down I listened to a guy describe how much he loved surfing. His wish was to find a “part-time parenting situation”, 2-3 hours a day, 3-4 days a week so that he could teach a kid to surf.

That, my friends, is a bachelor.

My friend, the groom to be, was not.

Lying on a picnic table, comatose from too much barbeque and too much sun, surrounded by the gentle lullaby of shotgun blasts I had my epiphany.

There was my friend, a man who had made a big decision in his life, a brave decision. He was going to stand up in front of his family and friends and declare his love for a woman.
It’s a beautiful thing. It should be up to us, his friends, to support him in that decision.

The night before or the week before a man’s wedding is not the time for a man to carouse as he once did in the past. It is a time for his friends to celebrate his future, to pay tribute to the life he has chosen.

A traditional bachelor party is actually a subversive act. It focuses attention on a man losing his freedom rather than a man choosing his life. By it’s very nature a traditional bachelor party denigrates marriage as not a choice but an obligation, a giving in, a failure.

The night before the wedding one should not be mourning the loss of bachelor hood. One should be celebrating the creation of a new role, that of husband.

Which brings me to this, Bachelor Parties should continue. They just shouldn’t take place any where near a wedding.

A Bachelor Party should be all about celebrating the fact that you’re still a F***ING BACHELOR.

26-years-old? No girlfriend? Have a f—ing Bachelor Party; girls, guns, blow, donkeys, whatever you want.

Does it make sense to wait till you have a fiancé to go out and have the biggest blow out of your life? Does it make sense to wait to hire strippers until you have someone in your life you need to keep it secret from? Why wait to have your dirtiest night until you have reason to feel guilty the next morning?

Men, for god sakes, start having your bachelor parties while you’re still legitimately bachelors. Celebrate the fact that you can do anything and not feel guilty. Celebrate that there’s no one waiting at home for you; no one to keep a secret from, that you don’t have to explain your night or what you did in that hot tub with Kia and Iris. That’s a bachelor party.

Luckily, we figured this out on the picnic tables and so you are all invited to Steve’s official and legitimate Bachelor Party; a grand shindig where we will celebrate the licentious beauty and carnal delight of Steve’s bachelorhood.