FUNDRAISER

Last night I went to a fundraiser in Pasadena put on by a non-profit meals on wheels organization.

Yes, you read that correctly.  What the hell would a borderline primate such as myself be doing at this type of affair?  For me, social situations have always been limited to 2 or 3 times a decade when Michael drags me along with him to an event held in the desert or an industrial park, where a horde of unconventional characters exhibit bizarre substance-induced behavior.  I quite enjoy these outings since I am completely inconspicuous in the wake of the outrageous goings on. Even if I do make a fool of myself there's little chance that anyone, including myself will be able to recall much of what went on the following day.

Last night's fundraiser brought together roughly 80-90 elder care physicians and administrators into a compact interior courtyard where wine, cheese and soft live music was provided.  A classic combination of factors that would ordinarily make me want to tear out my own eyeballs. Amazingly, instead of becoming semi-comatose I kept my cool as my being there was part of a scheme I had conjured up.  

(A little back story to catch you up)  Friends of mine own and operate a Japanese garden in Pasadena and I have spent the last several months looking for ways to help them meet expenses.  A few days ago I met Mary who was visiting the garden and exclaimed that it was an ideal place for retirement homes to take residents on afternoon outings.  It turns out Mary runs a referral business and is a well established link between more than a thousand retirement facilities. She was so taken by the garden that she insisted on helping me contact them all.  Admission to the garden is $10/person and I began to envision a steady stream of elderly visitors that could finally make the place solvent. To launch the effort Mary told me to attend last night's fundraiser.

Once I found the courtyard I went straight to the wine bar and unleashed my mingle mode.  I don't know what came over me, I was uncharacteristically comfortable among a bunch of strangers I would normally find any number of ways to escape.  Being on a mission surely helped but it began to occur to me it may also have a great deal to do with the glasses of wine I was tossing down and having gone without food that day.

I'm getting on in years and I have become aware that I am becoming more susceptible to the effects brought on by alcohol.  All of a sudden, the most seemingly inconsequential amounts hit me like half a keg. I don't mind it since it just means the fun starts almost immediately with so little effort on my part and a cozy little nap is soon to follow.

There was a point in the evening where it slowly dawned on me that my facial muscles were fatigued from non-stop blather coming out of my mouth.  I was on a roll. In recalling some of my comments it is impossible for me not to cringe.

"Hi, how the fuck are ya?  Goooood to know! While we're at it, WHO the fuck are ya?"

"What brings you here?  ...............................  Yur shittin' me."

"Didya try the yellow cheese? Didya notice the little boogers in it?  Whaddaya think those are?"

"Everyone looks great all dressed up and all but not what ya'd call a fun crowd."

"Honestly, do I seem outta place to you, cause I'm starting to feel like the anti-Christ."

"That must be a bummer, sittin' there and playin' music with nobody listenin'."

"I dunno what kind it was but it was white, not red.  Can't ya tell by my glass? Do you mean to tell me you're serving red and white wine in the same kinda of glass?"

"Terrific dress by the way.  Kudos, it takes real balls to wear something that loud."

I can't even remember how many of the poor bastards I verbally pinned against a wall and blabbered into semi consciousness.  It reached a high mark when I missed my lower lip and poured half a glass of wine down the front of my chest, drenching the only dress shirt I still own.  It's been so long since I last wore it I can't remember what the occasion was that required it. Fortunately, I was on such an alcoholic rampage of chat that my body heat completely dried out the shirt in less than 10 minutes.