Happy Birthday

Well, I just got back home from a birthday party. Whatever images this brings to your mind, discard them. The birthday girl, Crocker, turned 75. Nevertheless, it was quite the fête. Held in the Lubbock Senior Center, there were perhaps 10 rows of tables (3 tables to a row) arranged around a large dance floor. By the time people finished arriving, the tables were pretty full (at six people per table, the maximum seating capacity would have been around 180 people, giving a reasonable estimate of 90-110 persons). There was a band playing country Western ... "music" ... for dancing. Most of the men there were cowboy-types with HUGE Stetsons.

I was surprised at the method by which I was invited. Crocker also attends St. Christopher's. For those of you unfamiliar with the format of an Episcopalian service, during the Eucharist one remains kneeling from the Sanctus through the post-Communion prayer. This means while you are waiting your turn to approach the altar and waiting for the rest of the congregation to be communicated. At St. Christopher's there is also a special anointing for whomever desires it. Anyways, I was kneeling in meditation and Crocker comes up and asks me if I dance with girls. Nothing could have been further from my mind at that moment. She then whispered the details of the part she was planning, intimating that she wanted young people present.

Consistent with her initial invitation, she was very keen that I would actually dance that night. While I do not know how to do that kind of dancing, I was willing to give it a shot. But who to ask? I knew only a few other attendees (from St. Christopher's), so I thought I would ask someone I know. Specifically, Nadine seemed to know what she was doing, but I just could not bring myself to ask her: she is Larry's widow. I know that seems like a stupid reason, but I just couldn't ask. Crocker did scold me a little for not dancing as she requested, and I did have to deceive her when I left, but all in all I think everything went well. It would be extraordinarily self-centered of me to believe that Crocker's enjoyment of her party had anything to do with me.

As far as the deceit, she asked me if I had to go, and I replied in the affirmative. I did not have anything I had to do, but I could not stay for my own internal reasons: I had my fill of the party and was ready to leave. Therefore, it was not a lie per se, but a social deception constructed with the best intentions.