I’m inspired to write blog posts nearly every day, but I would be remiss if I didn’t write one about Tuesday night’s Dent Dinner. I love events of any kind; I’ve planned hundreds of them…corporate meetings, galas, fundraisers, holiday parties, golf outings, debutante balls, bar mitzvahs, weddings…the list goes on.

I enjoy the behind the scenes work and all the little details that go into it. The linens, centerpieces, music, audio visual, programming, entertainment, food – let’s not forget food. It’s like a puzzle and all the pieces have to fit together at just the right time. The anticipation of an event is overwhelming and exhilarating and I always feel both relieved and sad when it’s over.

Whether planning or attending, my favorite kinds of events are the sentimental ones. Having permission to take part in such an emotional and monumental occasion in someone’s life is a very moving experience. My heart swells each time I watch a groom smile proudly as his bride makes her entrance, or when I notice how a mother-to-be affectionately rubs her belly as she opens shower gifts for her unborn child.

Several years ago I had the pleasure of planning a surprise 90th birthday party for a gentleman named George. His 86 year-old wife, Harriet, and I worked on the event for months. She wanted to make sure every aspect was perfect. One of her requests was to have Blueberry Hill playing as George arrived. We waited 40 minutes while George was stuck in traffic, playing the song on repeat. I was ready to hurl my iPod off the back balcony when in shuffled George. I will never forget the way his eyes lit up as he tapped his cane and winked at Harriet.

Witnessing these types of moments are reminders that life is full of goodness and hope and chapters are still being written.

When I’m at an event, I can forget about what’s happening in my world and check my problems at the door. Here you go doorman. Hang onto this problem for me. I won’t be needing it for the next couple of hours. At an event, I can live solely in the moment and separate myself from my thoughts.

That’s the experience I had at this year’s Dent Dinner. I sense it happened for a lot of other people too. A fellow attendee said he enjoyed the Dent Dinner because it felt good to just let go and laugh. I couldn’t agree more.

I saw people of different ages, ethnic and religious backgrounds, all laughing at a silly man wearing a yellow poncho and making Fig Newtons appear. I heard cackles, giggles and snorts from all over the room. I observed how some guests would crinkle their noses and try to fight back laughter when everyone else was quiet. Others were doubled over and wiping tears from their eyes. I watched a five-year old boy grin in bewilderment as a goldfish emerged from thin air.


To the sponsors, donors, speakers, attendees and everyone who took part in the Dent Dinner, I thank you. Being able to set my worries aside and share laughs with all of you was truly good for my soul.

All of us have something that keeps us awake at night or distracted at times. It could be problems at work, a troublesome teen, a health scare, relationship issues, financial worries, or a difficult decision we may have to face.

What if we could just go to an event and leave our problems at the door when times get tough? Hey doorman. I’m back. I need a break from my troubles. Hang this one in my usual spot.

In a way, we can. I like to think of my friends, family members and the staff at KPCC as doormen at events. I can approach them with a concern and leave a little less burdened. Hold onto this for me, will you? It’s starting to weigh me down. Maybe you could you help me carry it for awhile?

And because I am blessed to be surrounded by so many wonderful people in my life, I can always find a doorman (or doorwoman) when I need one.

We all have struggles, but burdens are not meant to be carried alone. Merriam Webster says “a doorman is a person whose job is to stand next to the main door of a building and help people by opening the door“.

So let’s help each other. Let’s be good doormen. You never know what door you may actually be opening.