Toasts aren't given enough anymore. Weddings mostly, sometimes birthdays, and once in a work party blue moon is a glass clinked and a pleasantry orated.

That's a shame. There's something special about a toast well wrought.

I'd argue that toasting is the real purpose for your high school public speaking class. Not the bullshit college powerpoints or myriad factoid vomits you will deliver your corporate overlords. The class failed you for the opportunities you'll have to warm a room and cheer your comrades. The perfect toast on a shimmering night can be romantic, it can be impactful.

I found myself toasting twice recently.

Ukrainian Dinner

The former was Ukrainian Dinner. My very dear friend has a hairbrained tradition-- Ukrainian Dinner. He's not Ukrainian. No one at the party was. No one at its founding was. But that's the theme. Between borscht and vodka, toasts are required of all who attend. Passed down from a friend of a friend, it's now an annual tradition, and it brings about toasts that only a half decade affair can.

As such, you can't come empty handed. Sure, a first timer can mumble through a tip to the host's good health. But a repeat offender appreciates the gravity. It's an occasion to be inventive in flattery of your friends; it's not often we publicly praise the people that enrich our lives. Everyone brings their 'A' game.

There's something magical about it. The room warm with laughs and familiar faces, a rotating cast around the core contingent. Between bouts of conversation, a chair will creak back and the next speech is at hand. It's a collective act of creativity that nurtures the wit we often neglect.

Beach Birthday

For my friends' fortieth birthday, they went all out. A trip to somewhere tropical with her best mates in tow. Amidst the preparations, her thoughtful husband asked the attendees to come with toasts in-hand, to be delivered throughout the course of the vacation. The results were tremendous.

Little riffs delivered from the heart. Some short. Some sweet. Some quick. Some long. People played with ideas and remixed the ask to their liking. Themes emerged over the first couple, and were played with by later toasters. Some made us laugh and some made us cry, with an authenticity that only small silly circles can create.

In our bland, flavorless world, it's a creative complement to the breaking of bread. I lament that these brief moments of human connection are so infrequent. And so I say, a toast to toasts, and adding a bit more spice to your life.

// 🍋