Thursday, May 26, 2011

The DAR and Me.

I've never wanted to be part of the DAR, it's not a goal I had, or presumably ever will have. When I turned 18, my grandmother suggested that I sign up and pay the annual dues, so that by the time I was her age and interested in it, I'd have my 50 year pin. When I didn't take her up on that idea, I think she was very disappointed.
In high school, my trio and I were invited to many of the functions to sing patriotic songs, or swing era songs. It was a gig, we got a few dollars, so we did it.
A couple of weeks ago, the DAR had a memorial evening to celebrate the lives of the members who had passed away the previous year. My father and I were invited to sing at it, since we had sung at my grandmother's funeral a few weeks prior. I was the first of my family to arrive, with piano in tow. I went to check in with them, and they said, "great, you can set the piano up over there, and we'll just need your $20 for dinner."
I said that I wouldn't eat dinner and refused to pay. My aunt, who was accompanying us, said later, "I'm sure it's like a wedding and they already paid for x amount of dinners, so we'll just pay for you." My dad also said he would pay. I wouldn't let them. And I didn't eat. It's not the $20, it's the fact that we were invited to perform, and were in no way going to be attending without said invitation, and then I was expected to pay $20 for a two-star hotel's dinner. Homey don't play that.
You'd think the pretense of the organization would also include a knowledge of Emily Post and decorum, but alas, I suppose not.

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