The Party

When 2011 rolled around, it occurred to me that I’d be turning (cough) fifty this year. Knowing that I wasn’t the only one, I emailed my cohort to see who was planning what parties.

My fervent, secret hope was that someone would be hosting a 50th party in the summer in their cottage. Cottage parties were a staple of our teen years in Canada -- fun, crowded, waterfront get-togethers that involved water sports, barbecue, drinking and board games -- many of my favourite things. Hopefully, there would be one (or more) such events planned...to which I intended to finagle an invitation.

Through a sequence of emails, it became clear that (a) people were keen to co-celebrate our 50th and (b) there were too many of us to be accommodated at a cottage.

Somehow, I found myself inadvertently co-planning a joint 50th birthday party for people who graduated high school together in our year. That we hadn’t seen most of us in 31 years was beside the point. It seemed to make sense to celebrate our milestone together.

I volunteered to handle the communications -- the evites and information dissemination about the party. Job One was to collect the email addresses for the 400 people in our graduation year. I had a list from 2002. I sent a trial email and 95% of them bounced back as undeliverable. Turns out nine years is a very long time to keep the same email address.

Next of us in the Birthday Bash Organizing Group started emailing and Facebooking everyone we were in contact with from our high school days -- and asking for the contact information they had on anyone else. Organizing Group members who lived in our hometown started making the rounds and spreading the word.

I also had telephone numbers from 2002, so I started calling nine year old phone numbers, in an effort to make contact. Luckily, phone numbers seem to have a longer shelf life than email addresses.

It was unexpectedly fun to call people, out of the blue, after 31 years.

“Maureen?”

“Yes.”

“This is voice from the past.” (I felt it kind to give some sort of context). “It’s Liisa Kyle calling.”

“Omigod!”

My purpose in calling was simply to obtain a viable email address -- but rarely did I get off the phone in less than twenty minutes. The ensuing conversations were happy and heartfelt chitchats that sketched the intervening three decades.

After a few such calls, I felt I was already participating in the Birthday Bash.

Another point: it was unbelievably fun to call people out of the blue from long ago...and I wouldn’t have done it without some valid reason. Take Maureen for example. When I joined Facebook, I tried to find her. She wasn’t on Facebook but a Google search revealed her present location and occupation. Now I certainly *could* have called her, out of the blue...but I didn’t. Whereas, the looming 50th provided an excellent excuse to make the call.

As a result, I learned something. Now, when I think fondly of someone from my past, I have no qualms about calling them, out of the blue for no good reason other than to say, “I was thinking about you and wanted to call.” It’s ample excuse.

A second lesson:  I could use turning fifty as an excuse to do things I want to do.



Back to the Party. Thanks to months long efforts by a dozen people, we planned an afternoon gathering at the town beach, a golf scramble, a happy hour and dinner at the Golf Club. There was music and dancing. There were decorations. There was a Powerpoint presentation of vintage photos rolling in the background. We even had commemorative attire -- embroidered ball caps, T-shirts and golf shirts.

It was a damn good party. It was unbelievably fun to reconnect with people. The atmosphere was festive and joyous.

It was such a success that the folks who graduated the year after us have already consulted with us so they can do the same thing for their cohort.

What about you? Have you planned a special event to mark your 50th? I’d love to hear about it -- leave a comment or message me.