How to Give Really Good Toasts

1. Don't make it about you. The sneaky insertion of self-congratulation is the Speech-Transmitted Disease of our times. For instance, "Years ago I was marching up the ladder at P&G and Jon supported my idea of adding a touch of gunpowder to Attack Body Spray. The success of Attack led to my becoming V.P. of Teen Odor Control. That's the kind of guy Jon is."

Nope. That's the kind of guy you are. You're there to say nice things about your friend or relative, so do just that. Your dead aunt wasn't special because she was the inspiration for your still-available-on-Amazon novel about an English professor at Smith. We all crave praise and more sales, but this isn't the time or place—wait until you get married or die, and then maybe someone will deliver a nice, selfless toast about you.

2. Keep it short. Unless you're Louis C.K., people don't want to hear you talk a lot. What's the one thing they actually want from you? More time to go play Candy Crush.

Three minutes is the perfect toast length, and since you're not allowed to talk about yourself, how much is there really to say, right? The moment you go over five minutes, the interior monologue of every guest at the party is, "Please shut up, please shut up…" Give people the gift of surprise and delight by finishing up fast.

3. Embarrassing isn't the same as funny. An embarrassing story is like nitroglycerin—you might get it to the Nazi bridge in time, but it's more likely you'll blow up your own Jeep instead. 

The problem is the audience's lack of context. They weren't there with you, or as drunk as you, when Rajiv threw the stuffed tomato and knocked the dean off her bike. Also, the embarrassing story is often the only thing that everyone remembers from the event. Fifty years from now, people won't recall a word that the minister said at the wedding. What they will have embedded in their minds is the image you painted of Jennifer relieving herself in Casey's aquarium.

Yes, you feel pressed to be funny, but the humiliating story doesn't have much of an upside. And the downside? Waking up in a cold sweat for the rest of your life. Go with short and heartfelt instead.

4. Pick one story, maybe two. Toasters often ramble from one anecdote to the next, turning their speech into a trail mix of stories, frustrating listeners desperate to find an M&M. Choose a single theme about your subject—Shannon looks like the Mona Lisa; Bob would have made a great trapped Chilean miner—and pick a story or two that let you say something amusing or sweet to slam that theme through the hoop.

5. Write and rehearse. Don't even think about winging it. Write your toast down, then print it on note cards, because when you pull out big sheets of paper people's hearts sink. Practice the toast out loud at least five times in front of your cat (dogs are too easy an audience). You can memorize the speech, but bring your cards anyway—it's easy to go blank in front of friends whose pensions you put into Enron stock in 1999.

source:http://online.wsj.com