Oh cripes, it’s that time of year. Invitations for Spring events are coming in from all these groups. Non-profit organizations, political groups, alumni groups, social groups. The invitations all seem to say the same thing, year after year after year:
- Come to our spectacular event, where you can see [so-and-so who you probably don’t know]
- And tickets are a donation of oooonly [insert US$ astronomical sum]
- But wait! There’s more! for ooooonly [insert double US$ astronomical sum], you can come to the special VIP pre-event reception and meet [so-and-so] in person!
- Enjoy great [don’t insert ‘rubber chicken’] cuisine and fine [plastic bottled] wine with a terrific [still frozen] desert!
- Applaud [way too may long-winded] award-winners!
- And remember, it’s for [insert name of great cause that you already donate to anyway]
- Get there early to participate in our [who’d wanna pay anything for that?] silent auction!
- And plan to get your groove on with [insert name of band no one has ever heard of] for a night of dancing!
Uggghhhh… these fundraising events labeled awards-dinner-dances are prolific, at least in my neck of the woods. Not that I am “Mr. Popular,” but I have received invitations so far for 6 of these events in April, 9 in May, and 7 in June, with more coming. AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!
BTW, did I mention before that I can’t dance and hate trying to? Did I mention that my partner, Mr. Recluse, hates these things more than I do, so it’s our agreement that I don’t even mention them?
While personally I would like to blow off all of these things, there are some events that I can’t avoid for various reasons. I’m on the Board of Directors, or they’re giving me some some token of appreciation, or someone bought me the ticket, or I am presenting an award, etc., etc. On comes the monkey suit, the smile turns upside down, and off I go.
But why must they include a band and dancing? I figure that I’m not the only one who gets tired and just wants to go home. But some of the organizers actually think that people like to dance. And seeing those old grey-haired farts shaking [insert name of body parts] on a dance floor is, well, not a pretty sight. (There are so many other things I could say, but I’m restraining myself.)
Oh well, such is life. I promise, as soon as the last award is presented and the last long-winded speech ends, I’m outta there…
Such is my life — the life of a non-dancing guy who would much rather just be home, in bed.