By my epic standards, this was an extremely polite best man’s speech
It never ceases to amaze me that I am still asked to speak in public. If I am not the worst orator of my generation, I must be a close second. The last time I performed an after-dinner speaking gig was in Bath and the organisation concerned was so appalled it asked for its money back. ‘My delegates are not prudes,’ wrote the booker to my agent, ‘but the use of the “C” word in polite company is to me unacceptable and to use it twice was just insult to injury.’
In my defence, both uses of ‘C’ word occurred in the course of telling a single anecdote about encountering Gordon Ramsay on a flight back from Los Angeles. I came across him in one of the galleys, bent double over a stainless steel work surface and looking like he’d just personally prepared 375 meals. Thinking this was too good an opportunity to miss, I marched up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. ‘I hate to have to say this, Mr Ramsay, but both the chicken and the beef were an absolute disgrace,’ I said. As I told the audience in Bath, the foul-mouthed restaurateur took this in remarkably good part: ‘He called me a c***, but not a f***ing c***.’
In retrospect, perhaps this was not the best story to tell the Association of Retired Librarians.
I have never mentioned this to my friend James Lewisohn, but I was still surprised when he asked me to be his best man last Saturday. He has read my memoir, The Sound of No Hands Clapping, and therefore knows all about the best man speech I gave in 2000. This was at the wedding of my friend Sean Macaulay, whose sister, Sarah, is married to the Prime Minister. Not only was Gordon present, but so too was the then editor of The Times. My opening gag went as follows: ‘Sean told me he’s feeling very relaxed tonight. It’s the first wedding he’s ever been to in which he doesn’t feel guilty about having f***ed the bride the night before.’
I stole this line from a writer and journalist called Tim Geary — and when he used it, it went over like gangbusters. Unfortunately, the same could not be said of me, possibly because Sean’s wedding reception took place at the Chevy Chase Country Club in Washington. His bride was the daughter of a partner in a prestigious Washington law firm and neither he nor his colleagues had ever heard a wedding ‘toast’ quite like this. I ploughed on for at least 20 minutes and did not get a single laugh.
More recently, I was the best man at my friend Sean Langan’s wedding in Ibiza. The bride’s mother was German and I was given carte blanche provided I did not make any anti-German jokes. Naturally, this was like a red rag to a bull. ‘You can tell there’s a German contingent at this wedding,’ I began, ‘because of all the beach towels placed over the first three rows of seats in the church.’
Afterwards, I approached the bride’s mother and said I hoped she hadn’t been too offended. ‘At first it was quite funny, but then you went too far,’ she said. ‘I’d forgotten about the obsession you British have the Germans — always with the same stupid jokes. It’s really quite boring.’
At James’s wedding, the taboo topic was the Middle East, on account of the fact that he is a Danish Jew and his bride is a Turkish Muslim. By now I had learnt my lesson and only mentioned the Arab-Israeli conflict half a dozen times. Only kidding — it was the mildest best man speech I’ve ever given.
The only slightly cruel joke was at the beginning: ‘It’s customary at this point to read out messages from people unable to be here, so a couple of weeks ago I sent an email to Jacob Rothschild, James’s former employer, asking if he’d like to send a few words. He very kindly sent this reply: “Dear Mr Young, Could you remind me when Mr Lewisohn worked here? It doesn’t ring any bells, I’m afraid.’’’
Completely made up, obviously — and James was very good-humoured about it. Some of his friends were less forgiving, however. There were several Americans present who could not understand why I was so ‘rude’ about my friend. I gently explained to them that, by British best man standards, my speech about James was a hagiographic eulogy.
Comments