I take the blame.

My bad.

My ego, though healthy and large, is not too all-encompassing to recognize when I eff something up, and take responsibility for it. And I effed this one up but good.

I planned my kid’s 5^th birthday party with the speed of a cheetah, the grace of a gazelle, and ended up making a baboon out of myself. You see, for all my mania and effort, my daughter’s party was worse than poorly attended. Put another way—thank GAWD for family. Because without them, it would have been me, my daughter, and two dogs.

I acknowledge that not passing out maps with the invitation was a very poor choice. Yes, people could Google or MapQuest the address, but a good host would have provided general directions. Clearly, my mistake.

I acknowledge that could have planned the event further out, so that people could properly reserve the day on their calendars. Very poor planning on my part.

Finally, had I been a truly responsible host, I would have verified that the day of the party did not coincide with any other major event (INSERT the Clovis Rodeo HERE.) Truly horrible mistake. My head is bruised from all the forehead slapping.

AND yet…

While I am most willing and able to fall upon the sword, as it were, I cannot take ALL of the blame here. Blame, like credit, belongs where it is due, and some of the blame for the horrendous attendance must rest squarely on the shoulders of the uncultured swine that birthed the some-twenty invitees who did not respond to the invitation in any way.

No I am not bitter.

…Okay, yes I am.

And when I say uncultured swine, if you yourself have ignored the little line at the bottom of the invitation that reads, “R.S.V.P.,” then include yourself in that insult.

Because that one tiny line is enough for inhabitants of ANY OTHER CITY IN THE WORLD to know how best to deal with an invitation.

Any city, that is, but Fresno. And why do I pick on Fresno? Because virtually EVERYONE I know who is NOT from here, has had this same issue since moving here: Invitees in this area simply do not R.S.V.P. for parties or events in this town.

I have heard it over and over again: "We invited 50 people. Nobody R.S.V.P.'d, can you believe it?" "I think it's the way people do things here. They just don't respond."

As many of the inhabitants I’ve met since relocating here almost 8 years ago are kind people who would not willingly or knowingly be rude or hurtful, I can only presume that of the some 20+ events we’ve held, the several hundred invitees simply do not understand how to respond to an invitation.

PRINT FOR YOUR USE:

• R.S.V.P. is an abbreviation for Répondez s'il vous plait. That’s FRENCH, Fresno, and at the bottom of an invitation it means “RESPOND, please.” NOT “Regrets only,” NOT “IGNORE this little blurb HERE”, but respond.

  As in “WILL YOU ATTEND THE PARTY OR NOT?”

• The name after the R.S.V.P. is the person you respond TO, and phone number is the number you call for said response.
• It is perfectly reasonable to leave a message on an answering machine, or with anyone who picks up the phone.

  The message you leave answers the question, “WILL YOU ATTEND THE PARTY OR NOT?”

It’s not just that we, the party throwers, want to know if your precious little imp will grace our home with his manic behavior or not and if not, oh how downtrodden we will be—GAWD no. It isn’t about giving you or anyone a guilt trip. It's not completely about you. Rather, knowing if you will attend is about US-- our planning, so we know how much food to prepare; how many gift bags to ready; and how many children we will have to entertain.

For those that understand R.S.V.P. AND make use of it, thank you. Thank you for continuing to be kind and respectful and courteous to hosts everywhere. It really is important and does mean something to the person going to all the effort to host an event to know simply whether or not you’ll be there.

And for those otherwise: BE CULTURED. You are now officially in the know, there are no excuses. RESPOND. Please.