The breezeway at UM reminds me of the tweets I see on Twitter: It’s like a whole lot of people talking in a single room but no one really listening. I can certainly relate to your post office experience.

There is some Chicago connection to H&K, no? One of the dudes is an alum?

It can be surprisingly hard and costly to marry. In Minnesota, it takes a five day waiting period, $120 (or less money and 12 hours of pre-marital counseling), and the services of a judge (or an ordained member of an established religion) — and unless a judge owes you a favor, those are services you’ll be paying for.

In Maine it takes $30, a notary’s endorsement (or that of a Maine lawyer or a religious official), and the cooperation of the town clerk (whose services are compensated by the town and not the newlyweds).

In Guyana, the cheapest way is to have the bans published at the church each week for three weeks, to give ample time for objections to be registered.

Someone asked me if we’d had the blood tests yet. The blood tests? Yeah, to make sure you aren’t cousins… my parents had to do it. Odd; when your parents were married, they couldn’t reliably determine consanguinity from a blood test. Upon investigation, the blood tests were mostly for syphilis. And only a few states and DC still require them.

Perhaps the easiest, cheapest and longest way to get married is through common law, in 11 states and DC. By living together and behaving as man and wife for a time, and publicly representing yourselves as married, you gain the rights and duties of the betrothed, which hold fast in other states.

I would be careful getting married even with a candy ring in a fake ceremony — those are words of action (c.f. ‘How to do things with words’, J. L. Austin, great book). For some they are words of entreaty to, or covenant with, the Almighty, but they carry distinct legal force in the world of men.

Fake marriage in support of equal marriage? Is that more or less effective a protest than no marriage in support of equal marriage? (c.f. Sarah Silverman)

I know what you feel with that letter and the gaping maw of the bin: the casual, almost jaunty approach, then a catch, a few seconds of hesitation and the flash of deep panic after the release. Tomorrow I’ll be dropping off a stack of envelopes and I’m going to put them right in the postman’s paper-chapped paws.