Captain's Log #34 - Party Games

My mother was a tomboy and so was I. She loved to run barefoot through the woods of Nanaimo, British Columbia, and could spit through her teeth farther than any of the boys. I loved climbing trees and sliding down the wet, spring-grassy hill on a sheet of cardboard with the neighborhood kids in The Gully, across the street from my home.

As a kid I remember attending parties and being shooed into the kitchen with the women to help with the dishes while the men lounged in the living room. The women talked about their families and relationships; I was sure the men were talking about politics and things that really mattered. Imagine my crushing disappointment when I snuck into the living room and found the men talking about football. Life is not fair! Krist! Where could I find some interesting people? (Now, I understand the importance of relationships and would prefer to be ‘in the kitchen.’)

When married, decades ago, I organized a dinner party for my husband’s closest friends, there were 2 winemakers, a mechanical engineer and an Old English medieval scholar and their wives, for those that had wives. I so wanted to hear Old English spoken that I derived a party game where everyone would read a poem in a foreign language between courses. There were a couple Spanish speakers reading Pablo Neruda, two German speakers, the Old English scholar reading Beowulf, and I had visited my Norwegian ex-sister-in-law and learned her favorite poem, the first part I still remember. It went along the lines of: I don’t have a house with pig and horse and farm worker, no, the forest is my kingdom and it lovingly feeds my soul. I was struck how similar Old English and Norwegian sound. I mean, you read about how the Angles, Saxon and Vikings were all over what would become England, but to hear it, like you’re sitting around a fire in old times… I could see the flickering flames.

I threw a dinner party, maybe 15 years ago, and invited the most interesting men I knew in the hopes that we would discuss history and architecture. For those that had wives, they were invited, too. The wives turned out to be the biggest lushes. No one could talk about anything over their ribald, raucous laughter. One of the guests got up and left, I wished I could have joined him. Clearly people don’t choose their spouses for their intellect (me neither.)

I had been invited to an annual party given by a very interesting couple, there could have been 75 people. I knew the guests had to be as interesting as my friends but I had no means to approach them, “How do you know so-and-so?” is pretty limited. People clustered with others they knew and talked about the same old things. I was disappointed, who are all these people? What was the name of that dreadful, but popular, book years ago? The only thing I took away was: You have something to tell me that will change my life, so let’s get to it. I still feel that way.

I needed to throw a party to close my professional involvement in real estate, and introduce my friends to the agent who would happily work for them (and give me a referral fee.) As you might imagine it was rather orchestrated. Once people had confirmed attendance I asked them to email me 3 important or unusual facts about themselves that they’d be willing to share. I chose the most interesting ones, printed them on a stack of card stock, handed out pens and told the guests to find the people that matched the fact. It was a great mixer. At the end one man said, ‘Karla, you have interesting friends.’ (I know!)

I included one more task, all the guests were given 8 blank movie tickets, asked to write one word on each ticket and put them in a fish bowl. Later they pulled out 8 random tickets and composed a poem from those words. I highly recommend this ‘game,’ it brings unity to a group: I’m creating something new using your words; and it could change my life.

Let me know what’s going on with you.

Many blessings,

Karla, mom & k.j.

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