Surprise Parties

I only recall one true surprise party that anyone threw for me. My spouse has probably never even thought of throwing me a surprise party, and I doubt my children have either. Most of my family members are not known for their gaiety or spontaneity, nor do I have that reputation within the family. We’re more given to carefully planned occasions to avoid any coronary distress.

My fiftieth birthday party at work was supposed to be a surprise, but I knew it was coming. Why else would a peer of mine set up a meeting with me on my birthday, only to escort me to a conference room we both knew very well? However, the decorations for the party were a surprise. My assistant had contacted my husband (who had contacted my mother) to obtain pictures of me throughout my life.  Some of the pictures were blown up to larger than life. Many of the pictures caused me—and my colleagues—a chuckle or two.

I recently found pictures of the party, and of the props my mother had sent, as I was cleaning out a cupboard.

My retirement party also was not a surprise. However, once again, the party’s theme was a complete surprise. Someone—I’m not sure who—came up with the idea of having a Jeopardy-type program. Whoever developed the idea was someone who had access to my personnel file, as well as detailed knowledge about my life.

The contestants were given answers about my life to which they had to supply the questions. For example, one answer was “Efficient Land Use and the Internalization of Beneficial Spillovers: An Economic and Legal Analysis.” The correct question was “What was the title of Theresa Hupp’s law review note?” (That could be the subject of another post by itself.)

The Jeopardy contestants were one current colleague, one past colleague, and my daughter. They did pretty well among the three of them. Thank goodness, I knew all the questions. We laughed a lot, and it was a fun way to exit my corporate career.

So the only true surprise party I had was when I was fifteen and about to go on the People-to-People program to Europe. A few of my high-school friends threw me a bon voyage party, and I had no idea it was coming. My mother drove me to my friend Patty’s house for the afternoon, and Patty had about six or eight other people there. They gave me a few travel-related knick-knacks and similar small gifts, including a macrame necklace.

What brought this event to mind was that I recently found the macrame necklace as I was decluttering my drawers once again. I decided to give the necklace away, because it no longer fits around my neck. (It was always a tight fit.)

But before it made the Goodwill pile, I took a picture of the necklace. Because I do want to remember the party. I hadn’t thought of Patty or several of the other friends in years. But now I am remembering them and their kindness one June afternoon in 1970, forty-nine years ago.

Has anyone ever held a surprise party for you? Did you enjoy it?