Party Labels

Last night, I went to a party.

It started out as a summer social for my professional organization, but ended up as a Jody Party - a different level of guaranteed fun. Jody has a permanent love affair with humanity and a rather awe-inspiring zest for life, and as we drove up to Jody and Jorge's home, Arline, Jane, and I knew to expect three things: a warm welcome, great food, and interesting people.

Jorge had made his deservedly famous fajitas and guacamole and the rest of us were to bring desserts and side-dishes. I was assigned a dessert. "A fruit bowl," I thought. "Everyone else will bring exotic desserts, but I'll bring fruit."

Our hosts welcomed us warmly (see Expectation No. 1), and I added my fruit bowl to the table that held brownies and a pistachio cake. The fresh strawberries, blueberries and grapes looked rather virtuous, sitting there next to decadence.

The other table held a variety of intriguing salads, casseroles and, of course, there were the aforementioned fajitas and guacamole (check Expectation No. 2)

People began arriving. And as per Expectation No. 3, they fit no uniform mold. There was 84-year-old Marilyn, who just finished her sophomore year at SMU on scholarship. Sam, who took over the open microphone to belt out Spanish love songs to his wife. Mike, a translator and artist, whose version of a "side dish" was one of his paintings.

There were translators and interpreters from the USA, half of Europe and all points of the Spanish-speaking world. There was a county judge. There were a bevy of school teachers, the gardener who built the phenomenal new deck, neighbors and friends. We filled the house, spilled out onto both decks, and down into the beautiful garden. There was laughter and conversation in every corner.

I hate labels as much as my granddaughter does; only she dislikes the kind that come in your clothing and scratch the back of your neck. The labels guaranteed to turn me off are phrases like "their kind", "right-wing nuts", "lunatic liberals", and "those people". And that's one of the reasons I dearly love Jody Parties. Everyone's label gets left at the door and we mix and mingle as individuals, as unique and interesting as the foods and gifts we bring: each one different, each one adding their own special flavor and perspective.

However, in the interest of honesty I should also mention that sometime during the evening, on my way to sample the decadence on the dessert table, I ran into the judge. "Good desserts," he said, his plate piled high. "Of course, I just brought a fruit bowl..."

And there behind him stood the dessert table, now filled to overflowing. There were Brazilian flan, French cream puffs, cookies, oreo pie - and a total of eight fruit bowls.

Mine was the only one with grapes, though.