It’s My One Year Anniversary for Getting Karled

Saturday night, as my Twitter followers may have seen, I donned a very infrequent suit and necktie to go to the annual Red & White Ball here in Highlands county. It’s a charity event for the Red Cross, which does hella good work.

I still recall when my grandmother was sick with cancer back in 1989 and 1990. I was stationed in England in the Air Force for a few years. The Red Cross quickly got word to me that Grandma was really sick. They do that for all military personnel, you know, contact you in the case of emergencies.

Naturally, they do far more than that…providing emergency relief for families after all sorts of disasters, putting up shelters as needed, etc. They’re a good organization.

Despite that, it’s hard for me to think of the Red & White Ball now without remembering that the event is partially responsible for getting me fired last year around this time from a newspaper column I’d written for several years.

OK, it wasn’t really the event that got me fired. I got Karled because of my blog. Ironically, the very same newspaper that fired me because I dared mention that they didn’t provide any journalistic coverage at the event they helped to sponsor? Well, they didn’t have a presence there on Saturday night, either. I thought that was pretty crappy. A little town local newspaper couldn’t bother showing up to one of the big events of the season?

It’s all good, though. Now I’m working for a much better place, a place that doesn’t give a shit about what I may post on my personal blog.

I had a passable time at the ball, nonetheless. I mean, there was alcohol. I can’t help but feel uncomfortable, though, whenever I’m stuck in a suit for hours. Just not my natural attire, but I get it. They don’t want naked people showing up at charity balls. That’s cool. There were a few kids present.

Last year I won 6 or 7 items in the silent auction, which set me back like $300. This year I couldn’t do that, with all the traveling coming up on my plate. But they did things differently, anyway. Instead of a silent auction, they had what they called a Chinese Raffle. Ever heard of that? I hadn’t.

Basically, you buy raffle tickets. In this case, they were 6 for $25. Then you wander around with your tickets to the various prize packages in the lobby. There were gas grills, flower baskets, packages revolving around the Highlands Little Theater, you could even win an autographed photo of John Forsythe!

My friends, Darrel and Candy, won a new microwave, plus various food gift certificates in their package. Even got to try out the new microwave at their house for Easter supper yesterday.

Anyway, you take the tickets and you drop as many as you want in the glass fishbowl in front of your desired prize package. Then they draw a lucky winner out of each bowl as the night wears on. Fun way to do things, plus I suppose it’s a potentially bigger money earner than a silent auction.

Even though big ritzy events aren’t really my thing, I go because it’s (1) for a good cause, and (2) because friends (who I really think of as family) help to organize and run the event.

After several hours of enjoying the company at the Red & White Ball, ogling beautiful women in beautiful red dresses, and a couple of bites of very rich chocolate cake (hey, a couple of bites helps tide over my internal Chocolate Freak), it felt really nice to come home and immediately strip out of my suit.

It always reminds me, wearing a suit, of working in the corporate world. Once upon a time, that’s what I did. For years I felt strangled by cube farms and dress codes. I swore I’d break free of those environments, and yes, it took a nervous breakdown for that to be realized, but still. One man’s breakdown is another man’s silver lining, or some such bullshit.

I’d much rather be in shorts and t-shirts and faced with the Blue Moon dress-up, than the other way around. I’m a simple man. Just dress me comfortably while nubile women in French maid outfits fan me, put grapes into my mouth, and keep bringing me pint glasses full of Guinness. Is that asking too much?