Holiday party season

They’re starting to build into a pile on my desk. Seasonal party invitations. Too much of a good thing isn’t good. I have more latitude in my choices this year since I’ll be retiring in a few weeks, at least from what I do now. So, I can pitch the less enjoyable professional events.

The givens are the family and relationship tied festivities, which I enjoy anyway. There’s the office party, which is usually fine, but takes on more weight since it’ll be my last.

That leaves the professions, organizations, acquaintances and friends categories. There were business, networking, and other types of considerations to factor into the triage in the past. But, I’m pretty much down to just deciding if it’ll be a good time.

Doesn’t take a lot to fire up a blast. A few days ago, it was a dozen fellow kayakers sitting around a table at a bar & grill, reliving the prior good times. The laughter was non-stop for hours. But, the prior relationships aren’t required, as some of the people were relative newcomers to the fold.

That would also go for Thanksgiving. A holiday dinner, yes. But at Dave’s, it’s more like a big party.

Dave is related to my friend, which is how I got invited. However, it wasn’t limited to family, or even people who knew each other.

Dave has a large country home and invites people from various branches of his life, past and present. So, one minute you could be talking with someone he was in marching band with back in college and the next, one who shared in the Antarctic tour. It wasn’t like they were all fascinating, but they were all people you’d want to spend an evening with. I suspect Dave carefully selects the mix.

But, it isn’t as simple as the cast. You hear people say they don’t like New Years parties because people are trying too hard to have a good time. That may depend how it’s set up. I prefer a lower key format.

At the other end of that spectrum would be The World’s Largest Office Party. Or, so it was promoted (and may still be, for all I know). An annual fundraiser held in the ballroom of a downtown hotel. A good cause, but more like the world’ largest meat market. Thousands of dateless overindulging at the heartbreak hotel.

I did have a role in this and confess to enjoying it immensely. Celebrity bartenders were teamed at a dozen or so stations and rotated every couple hours. Drink tickets were sold at other tables, and the competition among the celebrities was how many of those tickets (plus tips) could you attract. The end product was to drive overall spending.

Put me behind a table of open bottles and some Bengal cheerleaders and I don’t even mind the drunks who get in my face and demand “Who the ____ are you?” Or, sometimes, when you met your co-celebrity, you’d hear that. Did I mention they were stretching the celebrity definition a bit?

When the event was in its nascency, the organizers had a hard time attracting big names to serve as the bartenders. I had a TV show and newspaper column of targeted (read “minute”) audience. It sounded like a worthwhile endeavor, so I agreed to participate.

As the event skyrocketed in popularity, many of the true celebrities wanted in. Far more than there were spots for. To the credit of the organizers, they remembered those who helped in the beginning and we were accorded first refusal on the coveted spots.

The best time I had doing it was when I was matched up with some college football coaches. They got heavily into war stories and inside information, and maybe a little too much into the bar inventory. A lot of outgoing personalities in the group and we did better in the ticket competition than one might expect.

The opposite of that was when I was paired with Dr. Henry Heimlich, originator of the Heimlich Maneuver (that’s for clearing an air passage, not a dating technique). The middle-aged newspaper guy and elderly doctor. Can you imagine the line of revelers in front of our bar? We were limited to the no-waiting market.

I was content to pass the time people-watching and doing quality control on our inventory, but the lack of attention did not seem to sit well with the good doctor. So, I suggested a marketing strategy. We would offer a Heimlich from Heimlich. That is, get your drink here and you’ll get the maneuver from the inventor and have that to brag about that. Would’ve probably been even better in an age of cell phone cameras.

The concept was not well-received by Dr. Heimlich. “Do you understand who I am?” he thundered. Duh, yeah. It’s not like it would have drawn well if he was, say, Jack Kevorkian.

Not my best holiday party. But, I’m not just trying to avoid the clunkers, now.

There is one other variable. I’m looking at a dozen invitations, with more coming in, applying to the next four weeks or so. Let’s project that will double. Being realistic, I’m working with about a half-dozen/month body. No, make that less.

Let the sorting begin.