MODERN DAD | By Jon Show

Aug. 9. I used to like parties, but I don’t really like them anymore. Or I guess, I like certain types of parties? I’m not sure.

Let’s unpack this together.

I definitely used to like parties. College parties were fun because there was no small talk. You swapped names, hometowns and maybe majors and then you played beer pong together.

As an adult there was a time when I liked to go to parties because I wanted to meet women, but that was when I was single and I’ve since found a wife so I feel like I don’t really need to go them anymore, ya know?

You don’t know? Well no one gets a new bike and then continues to peruse different bike stores every weekend making small talk with a new shop owner.

“So, what are you in the market for?”

Literally nothing. You’re in the market for nothing. You already have a bike and it’s insane to keep shopping for one.

But parties aren’t just about finding a significant other, right? What about meeting new friends, you say?

Well, I’m at the age where I have friends and I’m not really looking for additional ones. I guess if I make a new one that’s ok but the ones I have are fine. Maybe not the cream of the crop but they’re good enough.

But what about having great conversations with people who have different life experiences, you ask?

The paradox is that I really like talking to people who have something to say, but in order to get that deep you have to have at least a 30 minute conversation about things I have no interest in hearing and things I have no interest in sharing.

Small town

I guess that means I don’t mind parties but I just hate small talk?

I do detest small talk. It’s the lowest form of human communication. All small talk questions are terrible but this one is the worst at parties. “So how do you know <insert party host name>?”

I hate that question because the answer is either something so boring, like our kids went to daycare together, or something I shouldn’t be sharing with someone, like we were both fingerprinted and booked at the same time.

Kids’ birthday parties are, of course, the worst as an adult. We’re fortunate in that we’ve aged out of the kids’ birthday parties where you have to stand in the corner and make small talk with the other dad who’s also too involved in the upbringing of his children.

As for adult birthday parties, well, I don’t understand celebrating a birthday after the age of 21 unless the person has survived a health scare or tragedy.

The Mother of Dragons threw me a surprise party on my 40th birthday. When it was over, after I genuinely thanked her for putting in so much time and effort to gather my friends to celebrate my birthday, I asked her never to do it again.

My wife, on the other hand, loves a party. Loves them. Always has.

However, even she recently returned from a party and upon walking in the door said, “You know? I don’t really like parties as much as I used to. I really like catching up with the people I know but all the small talk with people I don’t know is kind of boring.”

I wholeheartedly agreed with her and then she asked, “When did you start feeling this way?”

I told her the moment she gave me her phone number.

School daze

My 30th high school reunion is coming up and I hemmed and hawed about it with my friends – all of whom I see at least every couple years – about the various reasons I didn’t want to go and finally settle on the main reason.

Going to a party and bumping into someone at the bar and then trying to remember who they are based on how they looked 30 years ago sounds like a terrible way to spend a night.

And vice versa. Have you ever looked at a picture of yourself at 18 versus now after a lifetime of a marginal diet, job stress, yard work and raising kids? The after is barely distinguishable from the before.

“Jon? Jon Show? Is that you?”

“Yes, yes it is. I went bald.”

I don’t really get invited to very many parties so people probably don’t want me there, anyway. When I do attend one, I feel like I inch out a solid B- performance but I always feel like I’m in limbo.

There’s always someone who thinks I swear too much and someone who’s amused by it.

Someone who appreciates my diatribe about grocery store parking ethics and someone who thinks I’m on the spectrum.

Someone who finds it funny when I decline a passed appetizer, saying, “No thanks chicken satay skewers are gross,” and someone who thinks I’m incredibly rude.

As if it’s my fault that every chicken satay skewer tastes like chicken rubber that someone coated in dry peanut butter. Don’t blame me for pointing out what everyone else is already thinking.

RSVP

As noted previously in these pages regarding many of my manufacturing defects, I didn’t inherit this from my parents. My mom is a great conversationalist even to this day and my dad at parties was like a golden retriever let loose at the dog park.

I guess at the end of the day going to parties just isn’t something I enjoy doing and I don’t understand what’s wrong with that?

If you’re reading this and you planned on inviting us to an upcoming party please don’t let this change your mind. The Mother of Dragons still enjoys them and I’ll do my best to crack at least a few jokes so your guests consider me worthy of an invite.

I’ll try to make small talk with the guy who wants to talk about crypto. I’ll do my best to try to remember the names of people I’ve met before. If someone asks how I know the host I’ll be honest, if appropriate.

But I draw the line at chicken satay skewers. If that’s on the menu you can save the trouble of dropping our invite in the mail.

Chicken satay skewers are gross.

Jon Show lives in Robbins Park with his wife, who he calls “The Mother of Dragons.” Their 15-year-old son is “Future Man” and their 11-year-old daughter is “The Blonde Bomber.” Their dog is actually named Lightning.