Lucky Enough To Be Asked

I am lucky.  Lucky lucky lucky.  And I do like people, and being with them, and seeing those I don't usually see.  And I'd be churlish to whine about being asked to dress up and hang out at charity events with eats and drinks in abundance and occasionally a good band.

But whine I must, a little. I just can't help thinking this is another way we are back to the 1930's - think of My Man Godfrey - only these things today are both more politically corrent and more tacky.

It's the auctions, most of all.  Fun like a trip to a stockyard.  Some earnest husband - or worse, some minor celebrity - trying to extract money from people who are already feeling taken or, way worse, who want to show how prosperous they are.  The latest I've seen is handing everyone a little iPhonish unit that allows you to keep bidding from the bar.

OK call me jealous.  And cheap.  And ungrateful for all the hours that very decent people put into organizing these events, and the good causes they support.  Call me all of them, then please call me early for the coffee and a graceful exit.