FINlos reviews…

…party planning

Jul 06

FINlosdaily life 2 Comments

My wife is a notorious party planner. Whether it’s a grand affair like a birthday or something smaller like a movie night, she never fails in getting things just right. And it’s not just decorations, it’s theme. And then she decorates to match the theme, and the food matches the theme, and the activities match the theme. She is the party master.

I have never succeeded in planning a party with the same degree of success that my wife has. People present? Yes. Food edible? Sure. But what she does, it’s a whole package, a special quality of presentation. And she will not stop working until things are just right. And yet, she had never had a party in her honor to equal what she put on for me, for friends. So this year, her 25th birthday, I decided that it was time for her to have her party.

Let me start by saying that I have never really planned a party. I have thrown a party, an impromptu gathering of people without much consideration to food, location, music, or theme. They have been more of a, “hey, you wanna invite some people over?” type situations. My wife is usually the one who handles the preconceived engagements, and I am glad she does. I understand the effort that she puts into these gatherings and the pride and pleasure she gets out of a well executed plan. And it’s that plan bit that was really worrying me as I sat down to get the ball rolling on my wife’s birthday party.

It’s not that I don’t like having a plan or being prepared, it’s just that I’m more of a “let’s get all the necessary ingredients, have a goal in mind, and find the natural path from start to finish,” kind of person. And it’s not about everything. I like knowing where we are going to stay before we arrive, at least generally. And I like having a general idea of what I am going to buy before I head out. I’m a general person. I like having an outline, a guide, but still having flexibility, some wiggle room. But I knew that there would be no wiggle room if I was going to get this right. So the first step was the plan.

As school let out and I had a week or so of free time I sat down one morning and made a list, a detailed point by point catalogue of all the things that I wanted for the party. I remembered that a few months back my wife had told me that she would like a luau. She likes surprises, but is usually too clever and observant to miss when something is coming down the pipe. So I decided to be safe and go with the luau theme, something she had previously expressed interest in. But I would also try to keep the specifics of the whole thing a mystery. Once the theme was in place, the checklist was easy to build. Music and decorations were easy enough to plan out, but food, guests, and location would be tricky.

The guest list was lengthy, and that was actually the first thing on my to-do list. But several hours of cross-referencing my and my wife’s address books and facebook friend lists resulted in a weighty invite list, one that I was satisfied with. Even if only a quarter of the invitees were to RSVP, there would still be over 30 people, a record for me. And this let to the issues that I was having with the food and location. Feeding a lot of people is difficult, and having a place to hold them all and still allow for the theme was tricky too. Not to mention that food and property rental would represent the two biggest expenses of the whole affair. Again, she had mentioned a party idea in the past, that we might have her graduation party at Lichgate on High Road, the same place we were married. It would be perfect. A beautiful outdoor location, room for lots of people, and someplace that is very dear for both of us. I contacted our friend who manages Lichgate and booked the date. That only left the food to deal with.

My sister had stepped in early in the process to help me make all the party arrangements. I told her that in fitting with the luau theme I wanted to roast a whole pig. My first intention was to buy the pig and rent a roasting spit. But my super hero sister took the reins on the food situation and found a restaurant in town, Gordos, the owner of which was super nice, super generous, and took care of everything for us.

 

Everything was set. After a couple weeks of planning, dare I say work, we were ready to go. The date and time were set, we had tons of RSVPs, the food and location were ready, the decorations itching to be put in place. But we all know that plans, even those best laid, go astray.

By this point, my wife knew something was up. Several people had accidentally let slip that there was a party going on, even mentioning the hula dance. But she was a good sport and didn’t ask too many questions. And when my father showed up, kinda-sorta unannounced about a week before the big day, and then my brother a few days later, the jig was pretty much up. But I had hopes that there would still be some shock value once she saw how much work we (this had become a family ordeal) had all done. In the days leading up to the party I became jokingly known by my wife as the firefighter. My phone was ringing off the hook, dealing with all the issues and speed bumps that naturally come up with these things. She saw me stressed, asked what was wrong, and I would simply tell her, “nothing, just putting out some fires.” We had a good laugh, and she didn’t ask too much of what was going on behind the scenes.

On the big day I snuck out early to let the caterers into Lichgate to get the pig roasting. When I checked the guest list, several more people had RSVPed and I was genuinely concerned that we wouldn’t have enough food. But the caterer assured me that there is always left overs. Comforted, I went about decorating the Lichgate green with tents, hula girls, grass table skirts, and totem poles. It was all grand, festive, and consistently themed. My wife would be proud. As I was relieved of decorating duty by my sister and her husband (thank you Scott), I went home to make sure Eva was getting ready. I made last minute additions to the authentic Hawaiian play list, and took Eva on a roundabout path through town, trying to confuse the fact that the journey from our house to Lichgate is all of three minutes. And as we drove, the calls began to come in.

Since the party’s end, this has been the toughest part for me to deal with. No matter how much planning we did, no matter how over-prepared we were, no matter how perfect the decorations were, things were never going to be perfect. Things will always only be perfect enough. As we drove two people called to say that despite their RSVP, they would not be able to make it. Okay, no problem, still plenty of people were on the guest list. Next on the uh-oh list was the fact that it was about one million degrees outside. Despite our, and everyone at the party’s appropriate dress, it could not change the fact that just standing still outside would render once incapacitated after a few moments without cold drink. But we continued on.

And as we finally arrived at Lichgate, my wife’s eyes still closed (she’s a very good sport), everyone shouted surprise as we got out of the car. It was a lovely gathering, and a hearty welcome for the birthday girl. We greeted all the guests, drank some cold water, mingled for a while, and then drank some more. Finally, The roasted pig was ready and served. Of all the things at the party, the food was most perfect. Everyone ate, and ate well. But as I observed the serving line, I noticed that the food wasn’t really going anywhere. So many who had said they were planning didn’t, and that is the toughest part of the whole thing.

This is not intended to be a rant against those who didn’t or couldn’t come. I understand the realities of life, that things can and do come up when least expected. I am guilty of not showing at parties where I was expected. But in the moment it was difficult to overcome the feeling of wasted energy, wasted money, and disappointment.

“How many said they were coming?” she asked me.

“Lots,” I responded.

She nodded, kissed my cheek, and we ate our second full plate of food.

My wife is a kind woman, and protective. When I get upset, she gets angry, and we had a nice venom spitting conversation over a cold glass of wine and more food later in the evening. And then I felt better about the whole thing.

She had loved it. All who came were kind and loving, enjoyed the shade beneath the sprawling Lichgate Oak, enjoyed each other’s company, and left with full bellies. We listened to great Hawaiian music, ate sweet pineapple cake, and drank chilled wine. We were amongst family, both blood and otherwise, in the most beautiful and relaxing place in Tallahassee. Most importantly, my wife knew that she was special, that we had all come together to celebrate her quarter-century of life and all the days still to come, and who cared if it was a million degrees outside?

In the days after the party, as we finally finished off the remaining food, I said I would never plan another party on this scale. But I know this isn’t true. She’s graduating soon from grad school, and certainly that’s something worth celebrating. I even still have the decorations, and the limbo is still not done.

Rated four and one-half stars for heat, hard work, planning and fire fighting, and the payoff of a wife who knows she special.