My son, who is nineteen, goes to a lot of parties. In fact, in any given three-month period, he goes to more parties than I’ve been to in my entire life. And so, he has stories to tell, because that’s really the primary reason for getting together with other people: to take note of all the irritating things they do and then go home and describe them to everyone who wasn’t there.
The most common theme of these stories involves a person who showed up uninvited. This is some guy from another school, a friend of a friend’s cousin, who heard there was something happening on Friday night and decided to go, intending to cause trouble.
As I listen to my son recount the latest incident — a narrative that always ends with “If he said one more word, I was going to let him have it” — I find myself focusing on all the wrong things and, inevitably, asking all the wrong questions.
“He’s a friend of Kyle’s girlfriend’s brother. Anyway, it doesn’t matter who he is. He was drunk and he wanted to fight me.”
Still missing the point but hoping to fulfill my role as a good listener and a caring father, I ask who Kyle is. This causes my son’s skull to explode, sending eyebrows and teeth flying in opposite directions.
“Never mind!” he screams.
But by now, it’s hard for me to back away. I want to know why this person was so eager to trade punches with my son. What I fail to comprehend, over and over, is that there doesn’t need to be a reason.
The real problem is that we’ve ventured into an area of life where I have little understanding. For me, even the most casual parties are exotic and mysterious affairs, something like cult meetings and pagan rituals. There are things that take place at these gatherings, things that seem to have a significance that hovers just beyond my grasp. Why do people go? How do they know what to wear, or whether to eat before they arrive? And most of all, what invisible force causes them to magically group into clusters of two, three, and four that scatter around the room and fall without effort into a mutually compelling conversation?
On those rare occasions when I find myself in a crowded room, I’m always the one drifting around like an old shoe that’s fallen off a boat and is now bobbing aimlessly on the waves. It would never occur to me that it might be a smart idea to get into a violent disagreement with another guest. Mostly, I just want to go outside and sit in the car.
This friend of Kyle’s sister’s best friend’s dentist’s nephew – what motivated him to leave the comfort of his home, drive to a total stranger’s house, then walk through the door, drink a six-pack of beer, and start a needless argument? What element of self-assurance does he possess in abundance that I seem to completely lack?
In high school, I would find out about weekend parties on Monday morning. At my locker, in homeroom, and then again in the cafeteria, I’d hear fragments of conversation that, when pieced together, formed a hazy outline of recently shared outrageous and hilarious behavior. The details would grow larger with time, exaggerated, pulled into weird shapes that would make them all the more memorable for later telling at class reunions. I never remember these adventures, because I didn’t go to parties. And the thing is, once you’re tagged as someone who doesn’t go, you stop getting invited. You’re out of the loop.
I remember the first party I ever attended. I was five. It was someone’s birthday, and after school we all filed into a meeting room at our church. We played musical chairs. No one explained the rules, and if they did, the basic premise had eluded me. One minute we were all marching around in a big circle, and the next minute everyone else was seated and smiling, and staring in my direction. A grown-up told me to go stand next to the wall, which I did, trying frantically to figure out why I was being punished because they hadn’t thought to bring enough chairs.
At that same party, we played a game called Pin the Tail on the Donkey. A child was blindfolded, then handed a drawing of a tail that had been pierced with a long tack. An adult would spin the kid around, and then we’d all shriek in inexpressible delight as he’d lurch around the room, sometimes nearly stabbing us in the face.
And then there was the square dance. Again, it was a birthday party, this time in the seventh grade, and again I felt as though I’d wandered into another country, someplace where the men wore furry hats and kissed each other hello, and where everyone drove on the wrong side of the road. Someone was barking out instructions, but they might has well have been speaking Hungarian. It was around this time when I stopped getting invited to parties.
When I receive an invitation now, I usually find a reason to stay home. The experience is too awkward, filled with too much lingering adolescent tension. For one thing, my voice doesn’t carry, and I can always tell that the person I’m talking to can’t hear a word I’m saying, but they keep right on nodding their head as if they can. Meanwhile, everyone else is standing around in those littler clusters of two or three or four and discussing important financial matters or the latest news from Libya. Then the host says something from clear across the room and everyone bursts into laughter.I do tend to go to weddings, and I do my best to have fun, and even to mingle. But as soon as that music stops, I instinctively race back to my chair. I didn’t shave and put on a suit and tie just to end up standing next to the wall.
For all of these things, but especially for my aversion to parties, my son likes to ridicule me. He calls me a loser, and claims that I can’t dance and that I have no friends.
I love my son, but if he says one more word, I’m letting him have it.
simonandfinn
October 18, 2013
Well I happen to think you’d be quite nice as well as interesting to talk to at a party! So there.
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bronxboy55
October 19, 2013
Maybe we could organize a blogger party. I think that would be fun.
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simonandfinn
October 21, 2013
Ha! Ok. We could all bring our keyboards as props.
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lostnchina
October 18, 2013
Hilarious, Charles! Wasn’t there a dad in the US recently who wore really tight short shorts out in public running errands to make his daughter understand how ridiculous they looked, and that she should stop wearing them? SO…using this same logic….
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bronxboy55
October 19, 2013
Good idea, Susan. The next time my son goes to a party, I’m going to show up uninvited, and wearing really tight shorts. I’ll let you know what happens.
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thisihumblyspeak
October 18, 2013
Growing pains and generation lapses. 🙂
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bronxboy55
October 19, 2013
Maybe I should have forced myself to have more of those experiences when I was younger, just so I could relate with my kids later. All we can do is try, right?
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Allan Douglas (@AllanDouglasDgn)
October 18, 2013
I must agree, Charles: most parties I’ve been to seemed more like pagan rituals than casual assemblies. Although… now that I think about it, the goat skins should have been a tip off right away.
I always hated musical chairs, but not so much because I didn’t understand it as that I was not comfortable with slamming my elbow into someones face to insure getting a chair. So I ended up standing against the wall with the Charles-like kid. At least the conversation was good.
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bronxboy55
October 19, 2013
Do you remember playing Simon Says, Allan? That was another game I found myself in the middle of, with no explanation. I didn’t even understand who Simon was.
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Allan Douglas (@AllanDouglasDgn)
October 19, 2013
Oh, so true! At least Mother May I sorta made sense… although I wasn’t sure why we were calling my younger bother “Mother”.
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Chichina
October 18, 2013
Aw, I love this story. I don’t do parties either, mainly because I’m not overly fond of noise, confusion, alcohol, or loud music. If a stranger approaches me for conversation I want to bolt. Speaking of which, the time they put your name tag next to mine at the tutoring workshop made me really really NERVOUS. And then you spoke to me………. haha
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bronxboy55
October 19, 2013
I’m not surprised you were nervous. I’m pretty intimidating.
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Chichina
October 19, 2013
hahaha
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cuttingedgecreativity
October 18, 2013
OMG HAHAHA. It’s been so long since I’ve had a minute to really sit down and read an entry from your blog. (I have difficulty finding the time to sit down and post something to mine as it is.) You really do have a way of writing that brings out the laughter; it’s a shame your son can’t appreciate that, but I’m sure he will with time.
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bronxboy55
October 19, 2013
Thanks for the reassurance. I think that appreciation is still a few years off.
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kerbey
October 18, 2013
Can you imagine going to college parties in 2013 with everyone being able to capture all your mistakes and drunkfests in digital images? Your son should take pictures of each partycrasher, so you can really get a sense of this friend of Kyle’s sister’s best friend’s dentist’s nephew.
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bronxboy55
October 19, 2013
There’s an undercurrent of hostility in human interaction that I’ve never understood. Bar fights, road rage, war — it’s all the same issue, I think.
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She's a Maineiac
October 18, 2013
It was around this time when I stopped getting invited to parties.
Hmm….I can’t imagine why.
Who is this Kyle kid, again?
This post made me laugh out loud so many times, thanks for that, Charles.
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bronxboy55
October 19, 2013
Thanks, Darla. And I hope your back is feeling better.
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Wyrd Smythe
October 18, 2013
Party Pooper!! 😆
To each their own — and there are parties that have been boring or awful (usually because they were really boring) — but even as a hard-core misanthrope and confirmed loner-introvert I enjoy a good party. It’s a time to see and chew the fat with friends I don’t usually see (many of whom just aren’t into the internet, so it’s real time or nothing). Plus there’s all that good food and drink (I got friends that bake, smoke meat, hunt and make beer, so you can imagine)!
It was at a party we learned that the myth about the supposed synchronization between The Wizard of Oz and Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon is just that: a myth. Turned out the album was just as “synchronized” with every other channel we watched!
It was at a party we used a giant slingshot requiring three humans to operate that we flung water balloons at friends… from a block away! 😀
And without parties, my margarita recipe would never have had the chance to evolve to ultimate perfection! Or had the fun of wrapping passed out friends entirely in toilet paper and then taking pictures (while waiting for the “mummy to arise”).
As they say, “You know what comes before Part B? PART-TAY!!” :P:
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bronxboy55
October 20, 2013
Yet another side of your intricate personality revealed, WS. I always imagined you sitting quietly at home, watching the Twins and reading Newton in the original Latin. And there you were, out drinking homemade beer and wrapping friends in toilet paper. I had no idea what I was missing.
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Wyrd Smythe
October 21, 2013
I may be a introverted misanthrope, but I still love a good party once in a while! (It’s a myth that introverts don’t ever want to be around people. It’s that it requires energy for them, and too much can be draining. Extroverts get energy from interacting, and are drained when they’re forced to be alone a long time.)
The rowdy parties are long in my past these days, but I still enjoy an evening with friends, good conversation, venison sausage and homemade beer! The conversationalist and idea lover in me loves the party. The introvert is always happy to return home after. 😀
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sotengelen
October 26, 2013
I make a very clear distinction between “a gathering of friends” and a party. I like meeting my friends, eat good food, drink nice wine and have a good time with them (I can even handle their “significant others”) – I HATE parties. I have found the limit – if there are more than 70 % people I don’t know it is a party.
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Wyrd Smythe
October 29, 2013
I agree with the distinction — very different types of gatherings, indeed — but I enjoy both. Sometimes at a large party it’s fun to just soak up the energy and ambiance.
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Hippie Cahier
October 18, 2013
With each of your posts, I grow more convinced that we might be related.
Yours are the same reasons as mine for not liking parties. But as a commenter above said, I think you are someone others would be very interested to hang out with at a party.
That last sentence was as painful in the construction as it was in your reading of it.
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bronxboy55
October 20, 2013
One of my big problems is that I don’t drink. It’s a difficult character flaw to overcome. But I agree that there are people it would be fun to spend time with — I just don’t know if I’d call it a party.
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reinventionofmama
October 18, 2013
“I’m always the one drifting around like an old shoe that’s fallen off a boat and is now bobbing aimlessly on the waves.” – that’s me a lot of the time too! This post was really funny.
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bronxboy55
October 20, 2013
Thanks. I’m glad you liked it, and took the time to say so.
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geanieroake
October 18, 2013
Now, wait a minute – who was Kyle? I so get this. Whenever I attend some stressful social function I have to take breaks to maintain my equilibrium. Glad I’m not the only one hiding in the broom closet. Thanks for sharing.
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bronxboy55
October 20, 2013
I take breaks, too. Every thirty minutes or so, I have to go find a quiet spot and try to get my brain to stop vibrating. Extraverts don’t seem to understand this.
Thanks for the comment.
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scribblechic
October 18, 2013
I have a similar response to concerts, a dreaded hyper-awareness that I am not properly informed of the behavior rituals of participants. Of course, there is something to be said for people watching from the perimeter.
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bronxboy55
October 20, 2013
That’s an interesting point. We can be observers of events, which in a way makes us participants at the same time.
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shoreacres
October 18, 2013
I honestly can’t remember the last “party” I went to. Sometime in the last decade or so, it seems my friends and I came to similar, though independent, conclusions – it was time to let the party life go. Dinner parties? Sure. Getting together to do a hike and a picnic? Fine. Getting dressed up to “go to a party”, with all of those expectations hanging off it like so many paper streamers? No way, especially since alcohol and parties seem to go together like chips and dip.
I have a drink or two now and then, but when serious partying turns out to mean falling down drunk, I’m gone. It’s not moralism. It’s that I can’t stand being bored, and people who are overindulging in the name of fun tend to be boring.
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bronxboy55
October 20, 2013
I agree, Linda. I always have this feeling that people who have had too much to drink have gone off to some other place. Even though I may be there physically, I’m not where they are, so I might as well have stayed home. Which I do.
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icedteawithlemon
October 18, 2013
It’s refreshing to learn, Charles, that I’m not the only parent who asks all the wrong questions of his or her child. My ability to ask just the right questions to offend, annoy and embarrass my sons seems limitless. My ability to successfully socialize in large groups, however, is pretty much non-existent, and even though I’ve made a conscious effort to be more sociable in the last couple years, I don’t remember a single get-together that I wouldn’t have traded for alone time in the car or on the couch. If we ever end up in the same crowded room, I’ll help you hold up the wall–we can talk baseball and brainstorm ideas on how to let our sons “have it.”
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bronxboy55
October 21, 2013
Karen, you’ve alluded to the problem: It isn’t that we don’t like people or conversation. It’s that the more people there are, the less real conversation there is. At some critical number, the whole thing breaks down. And when it comes to parents and teenagers, that critical number seems to be two.
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Elyse
October 18, 2013
Maybe your wife and I can go to a party together, and you and my husband can wait in the car.
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bronxboy55
October 21, 2013
When you put it like that, you make me sound so neurotic. By the way, ask your husband if he’d be willing to sit in my car. I tend to get restless in someone else’s vehicle. And the radio makes me cranky, so I like to listen to audiobooks. Preferably non-fiction. Or we could just talk, but not about the weather or stereo equipment or Obamacare.
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haideeab74
October 19, 2013
Reblogged this on Fabulous fashions & Amazing discounts.
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bronxboy55
October 21, 2013
Thanks. I’m glad you liked it enough to reblog.
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cheerfulmonk
October 19, 2013
As a fellow party-avoider, I love your post. 😀
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bronxboy55
October 21, 2013
I appreciate that you took the time to read it, and comment.
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Experienced Tutors
October 19, 2013
Great post. Like you, parties have never been a comfortable outing for me. As I’m closer to sixty than fifty and never had a birthday party do you think I should have one? Would you accept an invitation if I paid your transport costs?
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bronxboy55
October 21, 2013
You’ve never had a birthday party? Yes, I’d definitely come.
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The Sandwich Lady
October 19, 2013
Great post, Charles. For an even more uncomfortable experience, try going to one of these things and not drinking. Sometimes I need a glass or two of wine to feel social and less self conscious, especially in a room full of strangers. I’ve been known to slink off to the nearest quiet room and grab the nearest book.
My son John reminds me of you as a youth. He is happy being home with a handful of friends but doesn’t get invited to parties or “hang out” at local hot spots or carnivals. Sometimes I worry but he seems happy and well adjusted so that is what counts. If he grows up to be a fascinating writer and blogger I will be happy!
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bronxboy55
October 21, 2013
I don’t drink either, Catherine. That’s probably half my problem. (Or at least some fraction of it.) I wonder what it would be like to have a gathering of party-haters. Maybe we’d actually have a good time, without running for the nearest book. Thanks for the kind words.
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Snoring Dog Studio
October 19, 2013
Your son is an extrovert – the son of an introvert. He doesn’t get the big difference. He doesn’t understand that we introverts quake at the notion of going to a party. It makes us lose sleep and it makes us sweat. We’re not LOSERS! He needs to read the book “Quiet” – some day, I mean, because obviously he doesn’t have time to read it now. I hear that you have to throw parties to be invited to them. That saves me from a lifetime of misery and I’m quite comfy with that.
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bronxboy55
October 21, 2013
Every once in a while, someone on the street will decide to have a block party, and leave an invitation stuck in our front door. My initial reaction is always one of annoyance, and the burning question: “Why?” The problem with neighborhood parties is that you have to have a legitimate excuse not to go. If you say you’ll be in Bolivia that day, then you’re stuck in the house, and can’t even go near a window.
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Snoring Dog Studio
October 21, 2013
No kidding. What a challenge. I hate the pressure that involves coming up with an excuse.
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Chris Minch
October 19, 2013
Made me laugh to where I think I just got an abdominal workout. Thanks for that! I might even eat dessert tonight.
P.S. Did you get to see my mother?
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bronxboy55
October 22, 2013
She and Lois spent about eight hours here. We had a great time.
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Catkins Column
October 19, 2013
Easy way to make your son cut down on parties. Give him a party he’ll never forget. Turn up halfway through and ask him to come home, wear something extra ordinary and he’ll be so embarrassed he’ll never set foot outdoors again.
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bronxboy55
October 22, 2013
It’s a good idea, except that he’d be in the house with me, and angry.
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Catkins Column
October 22, 2013
Very true, but probably quite worth your amusement
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Terri S. Vanech
October 19, 2013
Ah, a man after my heart!
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bronxboy55
October 22, 2013
We boring people have to stick together.
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Terri S. Vanech
October 22, 2013
Absolutely! At least we’re in good company!
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Patti Kuche
October 19, 2013
Oh the pain of the crowded party room with all that sparkling wit and repartee . . .
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bronxboy55
October 22, 2013
That must have all happened after I left.
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dearrosie
October 19, 2013
Thanks for the dose of funny Charles. 😀 If anyone tells me they’re feeling blah or yuk or claim to never laugh out loud I’m going to send them directly to read “Mostly Bright Ideas”.
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bronxboy55
October 22, 2013
Thank you, Rosie. And I’m still hoping you’ll publish that book of Museum shop conversations.
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mamanne
October 19, 2013
When I was in high school I desperately wanted to go to the parties with the “cool” kids… I was horribly shy (tho my friends today think I’m lying when I say that – I really worked to get over it!) so of course I was never invited. Here’s how I was cured of that desire – one night there was a huge party at the house just down the street. Under the guise of “taking the dog for a walk” I strolled past the house… more than once, lol. On about my third trip around, one of the most popular girls in school (a cheerleader, of course) came out the front door. Drunk off her butt, she walked smack-dab into a tree – hard. She fell backwards, clutching her now bleeding nose. The rest of the popular girls – her “friends” – every bit as drunk as she – just laughed and laughed at her. No one tried to help her. Suddenly the realities of life hit me, and I never felt bad about missing out on parties again!
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bronxboy55
October 22, 2013
That’s a good story. I’ve never felt comfortable with people who feel the need to get drunk or high in order to have a good time.
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Linda
October 19, 2013
Ah, as SnoringDog already pointed out, you are an introvert. A delightfully clever introvert, seasoned by a plethora of parties past.
I was such a nerd that I was never invited to any parties until after high school. I’ve spent a lifetime trying to make up for the loss and trying to figure out how not to become an unframed print on the wall.
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bronxboy55
October 22, 2013
Linda, in any gathering of people, you would surely be among the most interesting. I have no doubt about that.
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earthriderjudyberman
October 19, 2013
When my girls were teens and we went to the movie complex, they didn’t want to sit in the same theater with us. Once they’d grown, the eldest convinced us to move to Florida to be near her and her husband. Now, we all vacation together. Believe me, Charles, your son will – like Mark Twain did – discover the brilliant, charming person that you are. Even if you do hate parties. 🙂
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bronxboy55
October 22, 2013
We’ll see, Judy. But grown is an imprecise term, don’t you think?
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earthriderjudyberman
October 22, 2013
Your point is noted, Charles. 🙂
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morristownmemos by Ronnie Hammer
October 20, 2013
Introvert? Me? Just because I remember a group of teen aged girls I thought were my friends telling me that I couldn’t hang out with them any more because I was afraid of boys?
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bronxboy55
October 23, 2013
I know exactly how you felt, Ronnie. I was afraid of girls. And I’m not sure it’s accurate to be using the past tense there.
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silkpurseproductions
October 20, 2013
Count me in for the “blogger party”.
I use to enjoy themed parties. Halloween (you wore a costume), St. Valentine’s Day (every one dressed like a gangster or a gun moll), there was one where we all dressed like the Flintstones. The point is, I didn’t have to go as myself. Those were good parties.
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bronxboy55
October 23, 2013
I like the idea of themed events, Michelle, although weren’t there a lot of duplicates at the Flintstones party? Did anyone go as Cary Granite or Stony Curtis?
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silkpurseproductions
October 23, 2013
They did indeed. Mostly it was a cave man party and I think the Flintstones was our template for costumes.
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Stephanie
October 21, 2013
Your questions to your son and his reaction make me laugh because they remind me of how some (usually older) people tell stories. They are anecdotes where the premise should make for a solid story, but then they go off on tangents, either wanting you to know exactly who they’re talking about and going to great trouble to make sure you do (“Bob! You know, Elaine’s husband! You met them on the boat that time. Remember? You really liked their pug. Remember? Ugh. Of course you do!”) or forgetting the name of the person and then wasting a shocking amount of time trying to remember the name. Either way, they completely derail their own story, and you find yourself rapidly losing interest. I know when people tell stories like this — and they are their stories — it drives me absolutely mental, so I think I’m sympathizing with your son on this one, because I can’t imaging how annoying it would be if someone were to do it to my story.
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bronxboy55
October 23, 2013
I know what you’re saying, Stephanie. But the thing is, I hear some version of this story two or three times a week. The only way for me to keep them straight in my head is to know who the main characters are. Otherwise, I’m going to get confused and accidentally say something about the last incident — the one from four days ago — and that’s going to cause another explosive response.
By the way, when did Elaine marry Bob? Wasn’t she married to that other guy? You know the one I mean.
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eobonyo
October 21, 2013
Story of my life.
” to take note of all the irritating things they do and then go home and describe them to everyone who wasn’t there.” <—– Truest thing I've read today.
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bronxboy55
October 23, 2013
You know I was kidding, right? I mean, we can’t possibly remember all the irritating things people do.
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bloggirl52
October 21, 2013
So enjoyed this, thank you! From one non-partygoer to another.
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bronxboy55
October 23, 2013
Thanks, Danielle. I appreciate the kind words.
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wishart17
October 21, 2013
I hope you won’t mind that I did this but I have been amazed by your blog for a while now. Recently another blogger nominated me for the Sunshine Award. As part of the nomination, I have to nominate ten others and when it comes to bloggers who brighten my day, I think of you. I’ve really enjoyed your style and content, So I nominate you. If you want to know more or take part take a look at my blog post:http://365daysofthankyou.com/2013/10/20/sunshine-award-cool/
Thanks for writing such great stuff!
Kelly
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bronxboy55
October 25, 2013
I don’t mind at all. I’m not sure I’ll follow through on the rules, but I really appreciate your generous feedback.
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theotherlisa1999
October 21, 2013
Reblogged this on wordfulwhimsy and commented:
good writing, funny stuff!
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bronxboy55
October 25, 2013
Thanks, Lisa. I’m glad you liked it.
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JM Randolph
October 22, 2013
I have the same reaction to parties. I end up having to go to what I consider to be a lot of them for work (more than one a year). I even have gowns. A good party is when we actually get a table and can sit down. Then all of the other people who don’t like parties come and join us, and my husband goes and gets the food. But sometimes he’s gone a long time because he does like parties. *sigh*. The part that you missed, not going to parties in high school, is that these parties that your son is going to right now are pretty much just a whole bunch of people who don’t really know each other getting drunk together in a hot room with loud music hoping to get lucky. Everyone except your son, of course. 🙂
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bronxboy55
October 25, 2013
You have to wear gowns? I feel better already. And being with other party-haters does sound like it could be fun. Does your husband think you’re weird?
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JM Randolph
October 25, 2013
Nah, he knew it about me from the beginning. He looks out for me. Hey, maybe you should wear a gown to a party.
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bronxboy55
October 28, 2013
Wear a gown to a party? No, thanks. I have enough problems now. Besides, I’m sure I wouldn’t have the right shoes.
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bladenomics
October 23, 2013
As always ur post brings a smile to my face. Such a touching father s post. My dad passed away last week and “let me have it” like you said. He was just 51 and I had baked him a huge cake in the shape of 50 last year . I am not professional and it took me ages to bake it and slather it with truckloads of buttercream. It was four round cakes and two rectangles put together to form fifty. I kept going back to the store for more margarine and butter for the cake was too big and the frosting was never enough to cover it all. The decoration was an ugly writing of happy bday appa and some random designs I piped out. We invited around 25 friends to show up as a surprise. Though he barely tasted the cake as he was diabetic, Now I feel like all that butter clogged his heart and killed him. He suffered a massive heart attack. The doctors insisted an emergency angioplasty and he died during the procedure. I cant believe he s no more. I just woke up one morning to the shocking news. Did it hurt him when he died. Did he think of me. Where is he now.so many unspoken words, so many times I would have argued with him. So many things he disapproved of.now he left me and “let me have it my way” as always.
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bronxboy55
October 27, 2013
I’m sorry to hear about your Dad, Karthika. I have no medical training, but I doubt a small taste of cake frosting would have done him any harm. A heart attack is usually the end result of a long and gradual process. I hope your pain will diminish with time, and you’ll be able to hold onto all the good memories and times that I imagine you shared with him.
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bladenomics
November 22, 2013
I know, Charles. Heart attacks and angioplasty being so common, never occurred to me as so deathly. Its hard to think of the good and let go of the bad. I always seem to do it the other way around.
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bronxboy55
November 22, 2013
Not that it helps you, but I’m the same way.
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daisy
October 23, 2013
This was my laugh-out-loud line: “and then we’d all shriek in inexpressible delight as he’d lurch around the room, sometimes nearly stabbing us in the face.”
Hilarious. The word “lurch” was genius.
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bronxboy55
October 27, 2013
It’s one of my favorite words, I think because it sounds exactly like the action it describes.
Thanks for noticing, Melissa. You’re such a writer.
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daisy
October 27, 2013
🙂 And thank you for writing things so wonderful to read!
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oneenglishteacher
October 26, 2013
“On those rare occasions when I find myself in a crowded room, I’m always the one drifting around like an old shoe that’s fallen off a boat and is now bobbing aimlessly on the waves” is the best description of an introvert as a party that I’ve read. Ever.
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bronxboy55
October 27, 2013
It sounds as though you’re familiar with the feeling.
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Bruce
October 27, 2013
As a dad I can relate to this father and son talk. I’m a bit slow sometimes (often) but have learned that I’m rarely told the full and correct story so don’t pursue details unless I really think it’s necessary. I just sort of nod like hard of hearing party-goers. I’ve been told that I’m narrow minded, set in my ways and don’t know much. I’ve wanted to let the now 21 year old have it on more than one occasion, but have had some obvious, unspoken ‘told you so’ moments. I figure that one day he may have the same sort of conversation but as a dad. Sweet.
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bronxboy55
October 27, 2013
“I figure that one day he may have the same sort of conversation but as a dad. Sweet.” I’ve had the same thought, Bruce. I just hope you and I survive long enough to see it.
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Lady from Manila
October 27, 2013
People grouping together at a party to talk about “anything” for hours is still puzzling for me. When I was in my late teens and 20s, I would go to a party only if there was a lot of dancing and music. Afterwards, the tongue-tied girl, who had always been uneasy with pleasantries and small talk, in me would take over and be itching to go home.
I envy you for having an outgoing son who loves people and parties. My son has turned out to become just like me – a hardcore introvert. I don’t know where I went wrong. I often took him out in his younger years and let him join all kinds of social gatherings because I was hoping he’d grow up to become the exact opposite of me. He’s 21 now, yet I have to literally push him out the door so he can have a social life. He has spent too much time with me, I guess. 😦 🙂
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bronxboy55
October 27, 2013
I doubt you went wrong anywhere. Being an introvert or extravert is a major part of the personality, something I think we’re born with, and not a trait that can be easily changed. And even if you could change it, you’d have to turn him into a different person. I bet you wouldn’t do it, even if you could.
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Lady from Manila
October 27, 2013
You’re right…Anyway, I wonder what it was like when you were young and disco dancing. Filipinos, generally, are fond of discos and other forms of celebration. Everybody dances here, fyi. If I ever saw you at a party – whether sitting in a corner or drifting around – I’d definitely pull you to the dance floor with me. Do or die. 🙂
Speaking of which, the wind has been whispering to me an important occasion tomorrow that calls for a party. What could it be? Hmm… 😉
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bronxboy55
October 28, 2013
Disco dancing was yet another mystery to me. I actually took dancing lessons, but by the time I learned one of the new dances, it was already gone, replaced by the next one.
Thanks for remembering. But how did you know?
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Lady from Manila
October 28, 2013
Hahaha! Dance skill isn’t important; Dancing the night away with you is what matters.
Oh, Bb, that was my “point”: You’d end up forgetting the information you once shared to me, for one reason or another. I bet you’ve even forgotten my name (again). 😦
Oops, your comment counter above probably exceeded an “even number.” It’s ok – it’s a special day! =)
This one should come with the greeting -> mmwah 🙂
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Joseph Boshoff
November 3, 2013
Some people don’t see picking a fight as a bad thing, some people actually thrive on a differences of opinion. Personally, I can be like that sometimes. You have to keep it in check though, because sometimes you’re having a nice good old fashioned argument and then, all of a sudden, somebody bursts into tears or just leaves abruptly. It can be a bit confusing until you finally figure it out. People like that aren’t’ necessarily bad, they just like to see things from different perspectives.
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bronxboy55
November 4, 2013
I agree, Joseph. But nineteen-year-old guys tend not to get involved in philosophical discussions. They just want to hit somebody.
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Joseph Boshoff
November 4, 2013
Yeah, your probably right. It’s more of a macho thing than an intellectual thing. Forgot about the age gap.
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Wyrd Smythe
November 8, 2013
While no doubt true of many, perhaps most, 19-year-old-guys, speaking as a (oh, so very long ago) former 19-year-old guy, I know that some are exactly as Joseph describes — I was… and still am. I absolutely thrive on a vigorous debate. It’s very much like going to the gym for a good workout, it just exercises a completely different set of muscles.
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bronxboy55
November 11, 2013
I’m pretty sure you’re the exception, WS — in this case, and in many others.
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Wyrd Smythe
November 11, 2013
Yeah,… always the %$#@! outlier… the bane and joy of my existence. 😐
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swapmybeats
November 16, 2013
Yeah, the parties, the clusters. Now, I feel completely normal. Not alone 🙂
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bronxboy55
November 18, 2013
Glad to hear that. I sometimes feel normal, too.
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JSD
January 7, 2014
What a great post! You’ve described exactly why I don’t like ‘parties’. I do ask one favor of you…if we (your fellow bloggers) should ever bump into you at a party, may we stand off to the side and talk with you? We’ll have a party of our own, eh?
P.S. Regarding your son, I’ve heard that people’s brains don’t mature until they’re about 25 years old. Do your calculations and figure out how many more years you have to put up with his attitude.
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bronxboy55
January 8, 2014
If I ever go to another party and you’re there, I’d love to talk to you. Meanwhile, I just did the calculations, and now I’m more depressed than ever.
Happy New Year, JSD.
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