Party Expert

Well I've decided that there's nothing better than having one of your favorite singers come play in your living room and I know this is true now BECAUSE IT REALLY HAPPENED.  I wouldn't expect you to remember me mentioning having a house concert a few months ago, but Kenny and I had gone to hear Kate Campbell at my friend Tamara's house in the spring and I thought we could do this kind of party.  I am not a person who hosts parties. I won't even usually go to a party or shower or networking opportunity. Hell, I thought I'd finally arrived when I managed to get out of all holiday party obligations and it's not at all because I don't like you. I just don't feel comfortable and I like my pajamas and my book a whole lot. This has been going on a long time so when I told my sister we were doing this, in a very therapeutic voice she said, "First, let me tell you how proud I am of you for having a party."  I'm telling you this so that you know what a leap it is for me to commit to a house concert.  I did it, though, because Kate Campbell thrills everyone and this kind of party doesn't even require that any of my friends do anything other than sit in a newly renovated house and clap.  How hard can it be right?

All you have to do really is invite 50 or 60 great people:

and by friends I mean people like Tara who will come early and find and arrange wildflowers:

and like Mandi who will bring their artwork to make your house look perfect:

and friends like Stephanie will make sure you can serve drinks in the coolest way:

and Leighanne who'll call and tell you you're not fat so you won't freak out about what to wear.

And you've got to find a great caterer (Ray Harris) because he'll go along with your Sunday Supper theme:

and have Juan fry up some chicken in the yard:

You've got to marry a guy who will climb a few trees with you and string some lights while you sing "Kenny and Lori sittin' in a tree" ad nauseum:

And for extra oomph make a party favor:

So we did all of those things and most importantly, invited Kate, who brought her wit and warmth and sweet, sweet voice and all of those things made a perfect night.  If you grew up in the South, her music brings you home - like to your grandmother's house on a Sunday after church. You know, I don't even really think about heaven until Kate sings Sorrowfree and then I'm crying a little about shining rivers and forever and forgiveness.  It was an evening of belly laughing over roadside signs at vegetable stands and sadness over our lack of progress when it comes to civil rights. She sang about cars and blues and Jesus and funeral food and by the time it was over we had all committed to reading more poetry and dusting off our copies of To Kill a Mockingbird, but not one of us was ready for it to be over.  How many artists can do all that in an hour and a half?

I spent the next couple of days answering calls and texts about which album has which song on it and heard about a million times how peaceful and happy our evening was.  I'm leaving the lights up and the flowers are somehow still colorful so that it's not really over yet, but the fried chicken and biscuits are all gone.  I keep playing her live album Two Nights in Texas so that I can pretend she's still in the living room and it's pretty close to the real thing.

That's how you throw a party.