Almaden Resident
Letters & Opinions
Going from social gophers to party animals isn't easy
By Dave Kehmeier
It took us 17 years of marriage, but my wife, Ellie, and I finally got up the gumption to host a real, grown-up house party with candles in the corners, hors d'oeuvres that don't come out of a bag, and wine, some of which cost more than $4.99 a bottle.
This was a big deal for us because we are confirmed hostaphobicsa disease that produces extreme paralysis at the thought of organizing and executing a party. When it comes to entertaining, we're so clueless Martha Stewart would rather go back to jail than come to a party at our house. It's not that we're antisocial; we just prefer to be social at someone else's house and have them go to all the effort.
We've always had a convenient excuse not to have any major parties: Our house was too small. But after moving to a bigger house in Almaden Valley, that cow doesn't milk any longer. We also have a pool now, which makes summer entertaining pretty much mandatory.
In fact, last summer we agreed to let our friend Karin throw herself a birthday pool party in our back yard. She promised to do all the work. All we had to do was show up and not to freak out at the number of guests she planned to invite. Karin was true to her word, insulating us from all the gory details. When our daughter Emily saw the invitation Karin mailed us a couple of weeks before the party, she asked, "Did Karin tell you she's having a party here?"
The party was a raging success, so much so that we talked Karin into throwing another pool party a few weeks later for Ellie's parents' 50th wedding anniversary. Thanks to Karin, it was also a success. But just as we were becoming dependent on her services, Karin decided to move to England. Darned inconsiderate of her, if you ask me.
Forced to go it alone, Ellie and I managed to pull off a couple more small pool parties over the summer, mostly by setting expectations really low and serving lots of margaritas. Encouraged by these modest successes, I came up with the idea of having a small party this winter for Valentine's Day.
Besides, I knew it was the only way I'd ever get drapes hung in our living room. Being a husband, I need something more than a wife to get me motivated to do things around the house. It's an attitude I developed in college toward studying, which probably explains the recurring nightmares I have where I'm about to take a final for a class that I've never been to. Incidentally, I'm also often naked, which may or may not be related.
When I asked what she thought about the party, Ellie, ever the practical accountant, did a quick cost/benefit analysis and determined I was insane. But then I told her I planned to hang the drapes, and she was all for the idea--not that she wanted anything to do with it.
She was right, of course. The party preparations were a ton of work. Hanging the drapes was the easy part. I spent weeks getting the house in shape, coming up with a menu, buying and preparing food, and trying not to look too conspicuous as a male shopping for Valentine gewgaws at TJ Maxx.
Then, in the middle of final preparations, I got the idea of compiling a CD of love songs to hand out as party favors. The last time I made a music CD was back in the Napster days, shortly after dinosaurs became extinct. Undaunted, I downloaded iTunes and spent the next three days ripping and burning in a geeky, music-induced stupor. When I finally came to, the party was in full swing.
This led to the toilet incident. It was especially important to Ellie that we have clean toilets for the party. Personally, I'm of the opinion that you clean toilets after a party instead of before. But she's a busy woman, so I promised I'd take care of it. Minutes before the party, she finally got disgusted with me and did it herself. OK, my bad. But at the risk of spending my nights on the couch for the foreseeable future, I wish to point out that not one guest commented on the cleanliness of the toilets. The party favor CDs, however, were a big hit.
All in all, it was a nice party. No fights broke out, nobody made any big messes, and as far as we know, the people we invited are still talking to us. For now, though, we've seen our social shadow and have scampered back into our hospitality hole. I'm sure we'll come back out some day and host another house party.
It will be interesting to see which of our friends are still alive when we do.
Dave Kehmeier is a regular columnist for the Almaden Resident.
