May 23, 2008

Surprise to the occasion

By Malcolm Fleschner / Humor Columnist

When my brother-in-law called to tell me he was planning a surprise 40th birthday party for my older sister, Emily, I told him it wasn't such a good idea.

"Robert, I hate to break this to you," I said, "but she's not going to be all that surprised to hear that she's turning 40. I mean, that's not the kind of news that sneaks up on you. Frankly, knowing Emily, you'll be lucky not to get a knee to the groin for reminding her."

He patiently explained that the party itself would be the surprise, particularly when Emily saw all the friends and relatives who had traveled a great distance to come. I still wasn't convinced.

"If you really wanted to throw her a surprise 40th birthday party," I said, "you should have done it last year when she was only turning 39. Now that would have been a surprise. Or instead of inviting all her loved ones, you could only invite people she doesn't know. Just imagine her walking into a room with her eyes closed and then opening them to shouts of 'Happy Birthday!' from a group of people she's never seen before.

"No, wait!" I said, an even better idea occurring to me. "The biggest surprise would be to do nothing at all. Don't make any mention of her birthday. Then, at the end of the day, when she's furious and demands to know why you didn't so much as wish her a 'Happy Birthday,' you shout, 'Surprise!'"

"Wow, you have enough ideas to fill a whole garbage can," Robert said, by way of a compliment. Still, he decided to stick with a more traditional approach. What he wanted to know, it turned out, was whether I'd be able to travel from California to Boston for the party. Initially I resisted, recognizing that my wife might balk at the expense of round trip airfare, even if it meant being rid of me for a whole weekend. But then he said I could stand up and say a few words at the party about my big sister, and that sealed the deal.

After a childhood spent desperately seeking - but rarely gaining - my sister's approval, as an adult I jump at any opportunity to publicly embarrass her. My favorite weapon is an anecdote from our teen years when we traveled to France with our grandparents. At the time, I'd never taken French class and couldn't speak a word of the language, as opposed to Spanish which, after four years of study, I also couldn't speak a word of.

My sister was similarly French-challenged, so we had been instructed by our grandfather that if anyone spoke to us, we should reply by saying, "Je ne parle pas Franáais." We were told that this meant "I don't speak French," but knowing my grandfather's penchant for jokes, he could easily have been instructing us to say to random French people, "Your waffle is on my goiter."

Our first test came at our hotel as we walked into the elevator, a woman standing by the buttons turned to my sister, smiled and said, "Quelle etage?" Momentarily stunned, Emily looked at the woman, then at me. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, but which in retrospect was probably no more than a few hours, my sister turned back to the woman and, her voice trembling, said, "Uh, no speaka no French!"

Pausing for a moment to take in this unexpected response, the woman then replied in a weary, deadpan tone, "What floor?"

As always, this story drew laughs from everyone at the party - everyone except my sister, that is, who no doubt was regretting all those times during our childhood that she threw me out of her room when she could have just as easily thrown me out the window instead.

But this event wasn't just about embarrassing my sister (that was only 80 percent of it). Age 40 is an important milestone, after all, a "halfway point" of sorts, when people naturally reflect on what they've accomplished. For different people this might involve a range of criteria, including career achievement, financial security, personal happiness or the size of their collection of Star Wars action figures.

With this in mind, I couldn't help but be impressed as I looked around the room at all the people who'd gathered for the event. By pretty much any standard, if friends and family members care enough about you to fly in from all over the country and, in one case, Morocco, just for the chance to see the stupefied look on your face as you walk into your surprise birthday party, you must be doing something right.

Especially considering that, as far as my sister is concerned, the same effect can be achieved simply by speaking to her in French.

Joyeux anniversaire, big sis!


Readers with other embarrassing stories about Malcolm's sister are encouraged to e-mail him at Malcolm@CultureShlock.com.