I went to the Republican Christmas party under the vague and sanguine assumption that no greeting was expected of me. Fifteen minutes before the last guest of forty arrived, a member of the board for which I serve as president informed me that, in fact, my check for dinner was not enough, and that I would need to sing for my supper. I sat down on a couch off to the side of the chattering room, memorized the list of city officials that had been handed to me, sipped from a glass of lemon-lime, collected my thoughts and placed them in order. After a delightfully garrulous opener by the gentleman who will keep the club's books in balance, I delivered a brief address. Following is a faithful recollection of those remarks:
There are those who would tell me that I have no reason to introduce myself, but those who know me know that I am one who stands on ceremony. My name is Michael Ubaldi, President of the North Olmsted Republican Organization, and I am happy to welcome you to our gathering tonight. We are here to celebrate a year that was at times trying, at times rewarding; one which sometimes ran a little long and sometimes moved too quickly for proper planning. But here we are. Now, before we all sat down I saw all of you talking and laughing, meeting old friends, new friends, and others. We are graced with the presence of public servants, who I will introduce now. [I introduced them in turn by name and office.]Now, among those names are a few people who belong to a group to which some of us would refer, euphemistically, as The Other Party. But tonight we forget that. We are all citizens of North Olmsted and, dare I engage in effrontery, we are all Christians; and these days usher in the Yuletide. It is with these twin sentiments, these two inextricable sentiments, fellowship and the anticipation of the coming of our Savior, that I leave you, so that we may enjoy the good times before us.
Of course, there was an exception: the fellow who notified me of my elocutionary duty is Jewish. I offered him a light apology later in the evening, as he sat across from me at the corner table, nursing a bottle of Chardonnay to my cup of coffee with cream. He has jokes about his laxity, so I offered my own about People of the Book, the one about the rabbi and the priest.