Dancing with George, Molly…and Bruno Mars
Atlanta, GA
March 24, 2019
“Do you want to stay?”
“Are you kidding me?”, replied my incredulous wife to her dorkish husband. “This is the best part. People ordinarily spend hundreds of dollars to see him.”
“Oh.”
At that moment, the lights dimmed, fireworks erupted, and Steve Harvey introduced Bruno Mars.
I can’t recall the last time the after-dinner band at a charity event didn’t play “Uptown Funk”, so it was good to finally hear it from the horse’s mouth.
We arrived a few hours earlier, mingled thru cocktail hour with many Atlanta notables, were funneled ceremoniously to the field, and found our designated table beside the prominent stage and promising runway on the Mercedes Benz Stadium turf.
Throughout the evening, emcee Steve Harvey deftly infused humor into the “Beloved Benefit”, an event honoring Martin Luther King’s “Beloved Community”…and bolstering several initiatives that support Atlanta’s languishing Westside neighborhoods.
We were introduced to many inspiring young men diverted from abbreviated or criminal lives by the dedicated effort of the volunteers being honored.
Martin Luther King’s daughter Beatrice took the stage to commend efforts already underway…and to scream at us a bit for not doing more.
At one point she started to sound a little too much like Al Gore when he tried at her father’s church to sound a little too much like her father.
Nothing sounds whiter than a robotic white guy trying to sound like an animated black guy…unless it is a transparently duplicitous white guy on a blatantly obvious campaign stop. Hillary Clinton on a couple occasions tried to pull off the same implausible metamorphosis, with equally eye-rolling, wince-inducing effect.
Anyway…
One person Beatrice King called out by name for insufficient dedication to the evening’s cause took the stage a few minutes later. The mayor of Atlanta gave a brief, dignified address before introducing several young dancers from the Westside neighborhood in which the Honorable Keisha Lance Bottoms was raised.
Jeff Foxworthy then scattered a few jokes into his sincere personal anecdotes about the weekly Westside Bible study he started a decade ago, and still regularly attends.
John Lewis paid homage to advocates for the area and organizers of the event. After Steve Harvey prompted the congressman to dance on stage, a pretty young woman approached.
Harvey adroitly intervened to thwart YouTube and “deprive Donald Trump an opportunity to ensnare Mr. Lewis in a ‘Me Too’ moment.”
While Arthur Blank provided the venue, Chick-fil-A Chairman Dan Cathay underwrote a great portion of the event…graciously sacrificing many of those iconic cows to provide a wonderful steak dinner.
Throughout the evening, customary platitudes, heartfelt stories, and endearing parades of grateful and/or needy children filled the stage as effective and moving tactics to melt hearts and empty wallets.
Once Bruno Mars wrapped up, we headed home, stopping briefly to visit Rita’s dad.
After months of bouncing from one hospital bed, rehab facility, or nursing home to another, we were relieved a couple weeks ago to learn the high-demand facility adjacent to his current apartment had agreed to accept him.
Unfortunately, within 24 hours of our Thursday night visit, he would be back in the hospital…this time to address a left arm infected after suffering cuts during a fall the prior week.
Periodic shimmers of enjoyment are necessary to relieve accumulating strain along our emotional fault-lines…stress that might otherwise shake us from tracks we’d so carefully laid or foundations we had so carefully poured.
Yesterday, after learning her father would be hospitalized at least three days, Rita and I partook a couple very welcome diversions.
A wine auction to benefit the Atlanta High Museum provided an epicurean escape during the middle hours of a gorgeous day.
Dozens of restaurants from around town…and scores of wineries from across the country…descended on Atlantic Station to dispense their delectables, weaken inhibitions, and loosen purse strings.
One exhibitor in particular caught our eye. Among the wineries we visited when last in Walla Walla was a fun homage to eclectic wine and classic rock.
Although the music remained in Walla Walla (and couldn’t have been heard anyway in the din of the expansive tent), winemaker Trey Busch was on hand to dispense a few varietals of his Sleight of Hand wine. And, as veterans of charitable events, we were more than happy to help him do so.
Trey, like everyone in Walla Walla, knows Brian and Ashley. And, like everyone in our three-person conversation, he agreed their presence and their wines would greatly enhance the next annual rendition of this auction.
Another couple preceded us at the Sleight of Hand table. Hearing them discuss with Trey their love of Walla Walla, we interjected, and struck up a conversation.
“When were you in Walla Walla?”
“Oh”, began the wife, “we used to go frequently when we lived in the Northwest.”
“Where did you live?”
“We lived in Oregon”, her husband remarked, “near the Willamette Valley. We enjoyed going there too. But there is something about Walla Walla we love. It still feels like frontier wine country. It’s not crowded, good town, nice people. And the wine and weather are great.”
“How long have you been in Atlanta?”
“About two years.”
“Wait a minute”, Rita interrupted, perceiving she was looking at a familiar face.
“You’re Todd Stansbury”, which she confirmed by glancing at the man’s badge hidden behind his wine glass.
Realizing we had been speaking with the Georgia Tech Athletic Director, I recalled meeting him at the Tech “Gold & White” gala a month earlier, at which Brian’s Canvasback wine was on auction.
I hoped he didn’t remember me as the overbearing pitchman for those bottles…the one who insisted on a photo of him with our mascot, “Buzz”, holding aloft one of Brian’s captivating creations.
If he didn’t remember me, we did our part to at least remind him of the wine…and also to ensure that when they are next in Walla Walla, Brook & Bull will be on the itinerary.
After a few more rounds at the auction, we made a quick stop at the hospital, continued home, changed into our tux and gown, and drove to the St Regis to join a couple other celebrities at the Mercy Care gala.
George and Molly need no introduction – from Steve Harvey or anyone else. But we were pleased to have our aunt and uncle join us for the cocktail party before, dancing after, and dinner during this wonderful event.
Mercy Care was also glad they did.
During the live auction, George did more than his part to goose the giving. At one point, his bid paddle was going up and down so much that Molly no doubt felt as if she was being fanned like the Queen of Sheba by Solomon’s soldiers.
To her relief, the winner’s curse landed on another bidder. And, each time, like Isaac on the altar or Shaq at the rim, George’s offering was denied at the last minute…so last minute, that on each occasion I think he thought he had “won.”
While disappointed the iPad he wanted had eluded him, I think Molly was OK with the safari getting away. As she put it, she “wants clearance from Margaret before going on any trip where I can possibly be eaten.”
While that is no doubt a wise precaution for Molly, there are other people to whom my mother might be all too willing to provide such clearance.
JD
