Going to Richard Moody’s 32nd Annual Holiday Event at Mpls’ Granada

Richard Moody’s presented the 32nd Annual Holiday Event at the Granada Theatre in Minneapolis’ Uptown area on December 11th. The event exists to help needy youngsters, and a way to encourage Twin Citians to come, be sociable by meeting one another. When you need a social outlet this is a strong candidate. It was convenient and served a deserving group of people. Needing a social outlet, which would probably err toward brown and Black people, and serve a compelling cause, I went.

Mr. Moody, an in-flight worker for Delta Airlines, is known as a semi-retired model, event producer, which often entail fashion, and a mentor to younger models.

Experience has shown me that some of these events can be too loud for anyone who prefers to enjoy a regular conversation. Or it might overwhelm you if, while sociable, huge crowds convince you to make a 180, then go toward the exit. As a social introvert I felt comfortable enough. The space was roomy enough and tranquil that it was easy to mill around as I looked at whom I knew, and whom I wanted to approach.

The Granada Theatre is large, but cozy. The ambiance, which at night-time events can hobble conversations was welcome and the lighting warm.

December is a common (almost compulsory) moment when networking aka reconnecting with people who you’ve lost contact. I am a man who knows that it’s important to maintain rapports and contacts, but oft lacks enough energy. 

In reconnecting, I found a public radio colleague; she approached me eagerly apologizing for not having followed-up on a news-source-related matter some months prior. I met Sara Rogers, a semi-retired model again. I met an employee at the University of Minnesota who’s friendly; But, as with too many adults, she doesn’t follow through after she insists “we need to get together, soon”.

The “entry fee” was a gift for teenagers, ideally. With no extra cash to spend on a gift, I shopped my bookshelves for a suitable choice. The awkward reality is that, in middle age and being what Netflix calls cerebral, my book shelves hold very little, which appeals to my understanding of teenagers.

I choose “The Book of Joy,” as my entry fee, which features wisdom from His Holiness the 14^th Dalai Lama and Archbishop Desmond Tutu. I only hoped that whomever guarded the collected “fees” would accept this. The neurosis was for nought; those who came learned that we were to place the gifts on the theatre’s stage without a visible sentry.

While mingling, there was a slender, pretty and married blonde (die-job) who was rocking red pumps at the base of a black dress. I remembered her! After having seen and almost-swooned at her hourglass shape at a prior Moody-produced event, I dared to tap her shoulder. I wanted to praise her sexy pumps.

As with too many Twin Cities women she waved my praise off.

But to be in a charming space, in a convenient and pleasant place where brown and Black people felt welcome was great.