Surprise Parties: How To Lie For Fun And Profit

This past Saturday, I hosted a surprise birthday party for my wife Peggy.

Since you’re never supposed to reveal a woman’s age, I will only say the milestone she reached begins with the number 5.

So there.

Thanks to my partners-in-crime (mostly her family), we were able to pull it off without letting the proverbial cat out of the bag—a major concern. Without the element of surprise, much of the fun also goes away. Like a tiger hiding in the bushes, waiting to pounce on his prey, I’ve been in the tall grass for some months now, planning the event, hoping all along that I wouldn’t give away my position.

The invitation list was comprised largely of Peggy’s family and friends, our neighbors and some acquaintances from work who have known Peggy for much of the 20 years or so that we’ve lived in Portland. Peggy’s actual birthday is this Thursday the 3rd of February, but attempting to bring in our college student children from New York and Nebraska, respectively—meant doing it on a weekend.

Aside from the challenge of drawing people to Maine in January (without skis), there was the issue of where to have the party and where to house everyone. The Portland Embassy Suites turned out to be ideal. Aside from a terrific staff and well-known great food, its proximity to the airport meant that folks from, say, FLORIDA (her Mom and husband Dick) would not have to brave the sub-freezing temperatures much longer than the twenty or so feet from the terminal to the hotel shuttle.

It’s a testament to my wife that over 80 people showed up----from all over the place. You know who you are—and both of us are so touched that you made the trip up to celebrate!

The room, menu, music and decorations were secondary to the ruse, the totally fabricated reason to be there. I decide to create a station event for 94.9 WHOM and our sister stations, a client reception and sales seminar that was mandatory—with spouses. It provided the ideal cover to getting her in the building. We already have a business relationship with the Embassy Suites---and even though our event was completely private and separate, she would fall for it.

Or, at least I thought she would.

I carefully constructed a bogus e-mail and enlisted my boss, our Northeast President and all of our department heads to be complicit by having it actually sent out. When I simply forwarded to Peggy this e-mail from my supervisor, the bait was set.

Of course, that night she said—“That’s a little unusual---you’ve never had an event like THAT before!”

That simple statement sent me careening into a series of fibs, half-truths and bold-faced lies about the event, my need to give a speech and our requirement to be there. She needed to choose either chicken or fish for dinner. Citadel employees would each get two drink tickets, but advertisers could enjoy open bar. I instructed the hotel staff to place a sign in the lobby directing us to the “Citadel Broadcasting Client Reception”

Hell, I even wrote a speech ---and had Peggy critique it that afternoon.

Devious? Yes.
Underhanded? Yes.
Deceitful? Why, yes.
Beautiful? You bet.

Our daughter Christina especially laid it on thick by calling Peggy (either from in-town or Boston, where she landed-I’m not sure) to tell her all about her busy weekend at school, with sorority activities and such, complaining about the weather and giving updates on the Creighton Women’s Rowing team.

As Peggy relayed this conversation, I tried hard not to laugh out loud.

In this shroud of secrecy, I even kept our youngest, Kevin, from the truth until the very day of the party. It’s not that I didn’t trust him to keep a secret. Rather, I couldn’t trust MYSELF from making some comment to him (with his mother within earshot) that would blow the whole deal.

It wasn’t until we were actually driving to the party that I became absolutely convinced that she knew NOTHING about this bash in her honor. She didn’t even notice the snickers of the desk clerk and another employee upon our arrival, as it seems the entire staff was awaiting our descent upon the ballroom.

Since Peggy believed it to be MY event, she directed me to walk in first.

“SURPRISE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

The streamers were dangling, the balloons were flying, the camera flashes blinded us—and in an instant, Peggy knew that she’d been had.

It was terrific.

Later, she’d recall that she saw the faces of our oldest kids, John and Christina—and that of her mother—and everything else was a blur. As the realization sank in, the additional faces of siblings, aunts and uncles, cousins, nieces and nephews, in-laws, friends and neighbors all bombarded her—one after another!

Since I knew SHE knew that I wouldn’t do NOTHING for her birthday, I told her to keep the following Saturday open. “Don’t make plans for the 5th”, I’d say. This, perhaps more than anything else—kept her off balance and unsuspecting. She firmly stated that she didn’t want a party, so I lied again and assured her there wouldn’t be one—on the 5th!

As I remarked in my little toast to her before cutting the cake, there was no better gift than to present her with a roomful of people whom she loved---and who loved her right back. That, and the following very truthful statement that everyone nodded in agreement to, namely:

That Peggy, who is accustomed and predisposed to putting everyone ELSE in the spotlight and subordinating herself—was, on this night, the person who deserved the attention and honor and focus--all on the occasion of a milestone birthday (which of course I still cannot mention specifically)

It was an event completely built on lies, but ones that were told by myself and others so that on the special evening when we all gathered in that room, we could tell one simple truth:

Peggy, we love you.


Peggy, I love you.


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