Wedding Toast for My Dear Childhood Friend Mike Alfred

Aloha.  I’m Andrew O’Riordan and I’d like to share some stories of Mike from 12 to 18 years old, when we grew up together. 

Mike and my friendship began at sixth grade, at the ripe young age of 12.  St. James Academy brought us together, as our parents were Irish Catholics, so we were Irish Catholics.  There were less than 30 people in our class, so we all knew each other like brothers.  I laughed more in the three years of middle school than any other time in my life, and Mike was always right there laughing with me  We were on Math Team together, when we both played second fiddle to Paul Willett.  We performed Shakespeare together, Mike the Horatio to my Hamlet, best buddies on stage and in life.  We were teammates on the St. James Academy flag football team.  I was a mediocre linemen and Mike was a speedy receiver, but we could never beat the big hairy teenagers of St. Mary’s Escondido; they went through puberty first, and they were just way bigger than us.  We read Lord of the Rings and Raymond Feist’s fantasy novels together.  “Hey Mike, want an orange?”

In high school we bonded over surfing, electric guitar, AP classes, and carpools from North County downtown to Uni.  After a year studying AP European History with our favorite teacher Ms. Davis, we both aced the big test test and then went on a month long school trip touring the great cities of Europe. There were a lot of firsts on that trip (including our first drink of alcohol, when crossing the English Channel.  It took exactly one shot of Gordon’s gin each for us to learn that we enjoyed drinking).  We sat on the back of a bus and drove from England to Germany via Italy and Switzerland, discovering the Old World together with our buddies Rick, Bill, Joe, and Raffiki.

We were always friends, sharing classes and adventures.  We were also friendly rivals.  Mike had two brothers but I had none, and Mike and I pushed each other, in the classroom, in the ocean, in reading big books, in taking off the grid trips, in SAT tests.  Mike was great at basically all he did, and I always admired him.

Senior Year Spring Break we drove to the Grand Canyon, not checking the weather, and arriving at the 8,000 ft. South Rim to tufts of snow.  Mike showed his early ultra-man tendencies when he disregarded the signs saying “Don’t go Rim To River and back in a day!”, That’s exactly what he did that in a massive day of hiking in and out of the Canyon.  Not for the last time, Mike went all the way, and I stayed back.  

The last time Mike and I both lived in San Diego, in 1999, I looked over on the freeway and saw Mike in a different car.  I was returning to Europe, and Mike was heading to a sales training for Cutco knives.  

Mike ended up, knocking on everyone’s doors in North County, and charming and persuading every Catholic and everyone else in Del Mar to buy his knives.  You can’t say no to Mike, right Gina?

Over the last 20 years our paths have taken us in different directions but have also crossed many times. Mike came out to visit me in Maui, he was there at Leigh and my wedding, he was at my sister’s wedding, he was there at my father’s funeral.  He’s always been a dear friend, and he’s always picked up the phone when I called.

\Mike’s greatest chapter, his love story with Gina, is one I’ve been cheering for from afar.  Mike is a totally unique, powerful, and combustible ball of energy, and it was always going to take a very special woman to counter his fire. 

Gina, I’m so glad he found you at the end of the road in Iceland, and that you agreed to have dinner with him.  This is your love story, and we all raise a glass to you both tonight.  To my dearest friend Mike Alfred, and to you Gina, Aloha.