M has a new job as financial honcho at a venerable nonprofit org in Philly. She makes a lot more money, and is happier in her new job. Yay new job!
Last night, they had a big to-do with cocktail attire and a celebrity appearance by C. Everett Koop who, before he was all Mr. Surgeon General, was saving children from death with his bare hands at CHOP and probably has awesome stories by the bushel. So that's very interesting.
I feared that we would stand in our fancy duds, surrounded by a mob with at least 40 years on us, engaging in drab, repetitive conversations which would be all the more excruciating for me, since my entire job was to smile and not say dumb things.
Instead, the evening was a sedate blast. The mob of septuagenarians -- spot on. But a room full of doctors is not dull. If I twittered, this is how I would have described the evening:
- Discussed 19th c. gothic literature with a medical ethicist. Heavy.
- Crazy stories from the frontiers of museum conservation.
- Pitched myself for a potential job!
- The CEO keeps manhandling Koop to get him to talk into the mic.
- Koop's friends call him "Chick." No, for real.
- Free Jack Daniels?! But I'm driving!
- My wife almost flashed the chairman of the board. Smoooth.
Furthermore, THIS JUST IN: Rich people eat pretty damn well. The food was "heavy hors d'oeuvres" which to middlebrow yokels like me means: "The kind of things you eat anyway, only out of a paper bag, while sitting in your car."
I wanted to bury my face in the cheese table. Attended by an enthusiastic cheese sommelier (or something), he pointed me to this awesome sheep cheese, and a five layer cheddar thing that was so good, I left the table so I wouldn't embarrass myself by scooping wheels of it into my mouth. Duck and turkey dim sum was my second favorite, but it's not like I failed to eat the steak and potatoes wedges. Only after the food was all gone did I discover there had been lamb in a room I never even got to.
Music came later, which we didn't get to hear because we were touring the museum and talking to the director. Then on our way out, we got free miniature trowels! Oh boy! They're probably meant to be letter openers, but we brainstormed other uses that I can't remember now.
Overall, a success. Next month, I am arm candy at some formal dinner, where I will need a tux. It will probably be a boringer event, but I'll find someone talkative and ask a bunch of pointed questions and see what I can open up. Everybody in that room has a lifetime of stories. Some of them have to be great.
4 comments:
1. Butter knife (including peanut butter)
2. Cake icinger
3. Grout spreader
Unfortunately, it's not much of a letter opener. I have one on my desk and on letter number 7 today, it broke.
what fun! I'm totally jealous of the cheese table. I was thinkin about y'all last night. It's been a while since we've gotten a good scoop on the Quicks. We'll have to fix that soon. tip: I hear Men's Wearhouse is a good spot for tuxes, in case you need one.
1) What a cool job! (not just because of the parties) Rah rah Meredith!
2) I'm having trouble reconciling my image of college Jeff with tuxedo-wearing Jeff (Still have vivid memories of those cut-offs you lived in). It's a nice reminder that we each evolve into different but related selves, some of whom can pull off formal wear.
3) C. Everett Koop!!!
Random) Please update us on what you named the new pup.
3) I love that you left with an item that can be both a cake icinger (which is a great word) AND a grout spreader.
I might need a tux, but I'll want to see how often these things come up... I am reluctant to spend actual dollars on a tuxedo for purely recreational purposes.
Deandra: You and me both.
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