As I try to figure out what's next,
an obvious option is event planner.
Some of us took a very long time to
find happiness. After making many
mistakes I discovered the real "me"
in my mid thirties. The first time that
I kissed a boy I called my bestie "T"
with the revelation. After she silently
and patiently listened I asked "Am I
gay?" Her response... "Absolutely."
My response? "How did you know?"
Her clear and concise revelation...
"You were a wedding planner."
Long before Diana got hitched I was
consumed with matrimonial matters.
For many reasons I was asked to help
a friend "do" her wedding. Soon more
followed. While I enjoyed helping
others, all I really wanted was total
control. Once engaged, I dove into
orchestrating our nuptials. My future
wife didn't know what hit her. Sadly,
neither did I. But trust me, by the end
said soiree was produced in perfectly
and properly planned "good taste"
and I loved every minute of it!
Leave it to a latent homosexual to use
Constance Spry and Elsie De Wolfe as
inspiration for flowers and festivities.
I arrived at the florist with a mound of
tagged tomes showing exactly how my
posies should be arranged. While all
was deceptively simple, restraint was
required which in the seventies wasn't
the norm. A nod to le mode du jour
were apricot chiffon bridesmaid frocks
and Ethel's gown of dusty rose. Yet in
hindsight - it worked quite well. Sadly
the marriage was not as successful.
After we joined forces, my new wife
and I entertained frequently. Nothing
made me happier than prepping and
sharing our home with others. Hence
the never ending dinners, brunches,
and bashes. Looking back on those
days is rather sad. What seemed so
important at the time didn't matter in
the long run. A "perfect" family was
anything but perfect and it in the end
it all came crashing down. Yet among
the debris remained several cases of
highball glasses awaiting the next party.
One thing that I learned during my
formative years was how to easily
orchestrate an event. Somewhere
deep within my somewhat warped
DNA lurked the natural ability to
do so. Hence many who know me
well have suggested that I offer my
soiree services at large. Sadly, it's
doubtful that leveraging said skills
is viable. First of all, our population
hovers under six thousand plus the
nearest large city is hours away. So
I doubt the demand is great enough.
Second, this is the wild west. Thus
my approach to celebrations may
be a little off. Raised by a lady who
never allowed a jar or carton on her
table, my standards are rather high.
Recently I was quite uncomfortable
placing paper (not Styrofoam) cups
on my holiday party coffee service.
Dilemmas such as that baffle locals.
And frankly... I'm not sure they're
all that wrong. However, I assure
my east coast friends that a pot luck
will never happen under my watch!
Finally, my approach to festivities
may be dated. Many Americans
enjoy watching Downton Abbey
yet I doubt many live that way.
Our children seem to have a better
handle on what's relevant. So I'll
sit the next one out rather than try
to impose dreams of grandeur on
my baby's impending nuptials. If
I'm incapable of planning such a
big event, it's doubtful I'm willing
or able to plan anyone else's. Thus
event planning is not on my menu!