Party Time

I was hoping that Jeannie’s birthday party, held midweek in their mobile home, would have provided a few choice anecdotes or at least one really awkward moment I could talk about, but no such luck. Given that more than half the attendees were members of the Eastern Orthodox Church the event went surprisingly well.

Martin Luther King and Rodney King both would  have been proud: we really did all get along. It wasn’t mere icy politeness.  When people were introduced to me and my partner, there were warm smiles and casual references to other relatives and their partners.  My stepbrother’s wife asked us why we didn’t get married when we had the chance, and urged us to be more affectionate together as she was snapping a photo. She pointed out that her religious tradition is not one of judgment (like those happy-clappy Evangelicals!) and more about love and celebration. I took that with a grain of salt, but appreciated the thought.

And while I could get catty about some of the appetizers, there were enough decent offerings to let me ignore the weird ones.

Jeannie, queen for a day, was basking in the glow of everyone’s attention.  Being the main attraction, along with the generous gifts and a few drinks, brought out her best qualities: warmth, graciousness and even a certain humility.  She made her appreciation clear to everyone.

Maybe that’s the secret to getting along with people—just address their hidden (even obvious) need by giving them whatever kind of recognition or respect they crave. Of course, carrying out that philosophy all the time would make human beings unbearable—a bunch of perpetual two-year-olds being granted their every wish.

Painful as it is, we need to be thwarted now and then, to learn our place in the world; I just get tired of having to learn the same lesson.