Mr. Big Food asked if I'd be blogging about the so-called "banquet" we attended this evening. That was more than an hour ago.
Tick toc.
Here's what I came up with in no particular order except chronological except until I loose track of the order of geniuses talking.
1. The floral center pieces were inspired and quite lovely.
2. Rubber chicken. Mr. Big Food and I had kidded about this earlier in the day while we were working around the garden. As the big event neared, I was hopeful, because I was hungry. I do like appetizers! But when we saw the big van from XYZ Caterers-- specializing in weddings, funerals, and elegant parties-- parked at the front door, my hope blew away. There were no appetizers. As I was examining the buffet table from my place in line, and saw that there were no choices other than between white or yellow salad dressing, I decided I'd better load up on roasted potatoes. And hey. You can sprinkle as much dried colorful stuff on rubber chicken as you want. It's still rubber chicken.
3. I liked the simple glass plates, and presentation is important. But the vegetable medley of broccoli, zucchini, yellow squash, and mushrooms was thoroughly overcooked and over heated and over heated again and again. Putting it on a glass plate just highlighted how much of the good stuff had been heated away.
4. We were seated at the hoo-ha table at the front of the room with very bad acoustics. (I choose to not wear my name tag, by the way.) Cool. Except that three of the eight hoo-has were absent. No doubt they were enjoying a home grilled Saturday supper on this glorious evening. The woman seated in the seat next to the vacant seat next to me told me she liked my rings. She loves rings. Thank you. That killed 10 seconds.
5. [Aside] In fact, I can tell a funny story of history of my rings. Mr. Big Food entered into an arrangement with a former student whereby she got his microwave oven and I got her grandmother's diamond and wedding band. The big giant pink heart-shaped ring on my left middle finger? There's a story there, too. But as I said, the acoustics were bad and there was initially a marked but unclaimed seat between us. Didn't seem worth the effort.
5. Ah! In an attempt to start conversation, the guys seated next to the woman (above) began discussing Daughter C! That's killed a few minutes. For Daughter C, I can overcome bad acoustics. I love to talk about Daughter C!
6. I chose the keylime pie for dessert.
7. The catering staff needs to learn how to produce fake smiles.
And now-- at 30 minutes into the "banquet"-- they are ready to begin talking.
And talk they did.
Do you really want me to go on? Because I can.
But I'll cut to the chase, instead.
The "banquet" honored six very bright, accomplished 21 or 22 year "scholars." They all gave Thanks for their parents and mentors and others, and many mentioned how thankful they were to the administrative assistants without whose help dealing with the ugly details of coordinating things, the plane they flew last summer over to good old merry Oxford (and I'm not talking Oxford, Mississippi) would have crashed and burned somewhere over the Atlantic or Pacific Ocean.
I don't begrudge these kids their success. They landed a free ride to college. Tuition. Books. Fees. Plus a stipend. One majored in Finance. She acknowledged that her debt-free future was looking pretty good. Indeed. One in six has her head squarely on her shoulders.
What I did not like is the pandering from the adults in the room.
It's worse than pandering. The guy who was supposed to speak at the end was the guy who was supposed to guilt the six into always remembering how important these years were for them so they'd contribute $$$ to the program.
Disgusting.
But what is interesting is that the guy who was supposed to speak is an MSU alum. A baseball player. And a smart guy.
Who did you sit next to and talk about me to?
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