Wednesday, November 2, 2016

A Nice Day For A Luncheon

The SJG has been to many, many luncheons. Every phase of life has brought a buffet of luncheons, always at a hotel. The Beverly Hilton. The Beverly Wilshire. The Beverly Something. The early luncheon phase exclusively involved my sweet mom. She started shlepping me to political events when I was a pre-teen. There I was in tights and a dress, feeling self-conscious and shy, as she introduced me to the mayor, or the senator, or the famous actress who'd come out to support Women For:, the liberal organization my mother chaired, or co-chaired. Chairs were very important. I'd sit in my designated chair and smile a lot. The best part was the chocolate dessert. I ate the whole thing.

Next came Phase Two. (Who said I wasn't good at math?) Phase Two was post-college, when I found myself at the illustrious Century City News. As the business editor (a position for which I was in no way qualified) I went to many luncheons, either at the Beverly Hilton or Century Plaza Hotel. Business luncheons. Charitable luncheons. Women In Film. Women Not In Film. I wore nylons and a dress and introduced myself and smiled a lot. The best part was the chocolate dessert. I usually ate half. I wanted my tush to still fit in my chair. Self-restraint, people. Self-restraint.

Luncheon-wise, Phase Three has been a bit spotty. There have been long stretches between luncheons. The professional writerly luncheon. The good cause luncheon. Whatever the occasion, the best part is seeing old friends. There's a lot of "oh my God, you look gorgeous, how are you?" There's a lot of "I'm sorry to hear about your dad... so sorry about your mom..." This is Phase Three. Today I'm going to a luncheon honoring a dear friend who's done so much good for the world, she deserves more than a luncheon. But that's all she's getting today. I'm so proud of her, I could scream. At some point this morning, I'll put on some nylons if I can find a pair that doesn't have a run, I'll conduct an archaeological dig through my closet to see if I can find a luncheon-worthy dress, and shoes that won't cripple me within the first half hour. And when the chocolate dessert arrives, I'll look at it on the plate. Maybe I'll take a bite. But only one. I'm still doing penance for all the Halloween candy. It's the lack of self-restraint that gets me every time.

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