Have you ever done paint by numbers? I mean have you ever done one after kindergarten? I tried one recently with the hope of learning, in some small way, how to actually paint for real.

It didn’t work and I have come to the dramatic realization that I am no Picasso. Not even close. In fact, I’m not even the kid in kindergarten who can color within the lines. I’m that bad at anything in the artistic realm. Even my stick figures look like horribly disfigured abominations.

I feel much the same way when I go to an event that is spectacular. Some people really just have a talent for putting together a celebration. I have come, more and more, to the realization that this is a talent that is artistic in nature and the events that they put together are works of art.

For a little while I believed that being submerged in the presence of such individuals would rub off on me. It hasn’t. I’m constantly reminded of that fact every time I attend a party or an event that is thrown by someone who really knows what they are doing.

I recently had an “I would have never thought of that moment” at a friend’s 25th anniversary. Both my friend and his wife are architects. They design buildings and homes. Where you could even begin to do something like that I have no idea. I tried building a fort once out of pillows and a blanket; within five minutes the city declared it structurally unsound and made me destroy it.

Despite their artistic and visionary natures, my friends happen also to be somewhat simple in their personal lives. They aren’t extravagant, nor are they flamboyant in their tastes. I knew that their anniversary party would be perfect without being showy.

I was right. The gathering took place at their home (which, of course, they designed and built). There were many people there: family, friends, business associates, etc.. Food stations had been set up in different parts of the house. At first, I couldn’t figure out why they hadn’t decided on a single buffet area or something similar. When I got closer to the first station, I discovered why.

When I picked up the plate I was surprised to see that it was a triangle shape. I’d never seen a plate like that before. All of the food at this station had also been cut and shaped in the form of a triangle. The shapes were natural; it wasn’t as if they had taken a hamburger and pressed it into a triangular shape. There were pies, quiche, and the like here.

Across the room a food station was set up with oval dishes. Again, the food had been prepared to naturally match the shape of the plate it was being served in. As I stood at this station and looked back at the “triangle station”, I realized it had been placed below two magnificent wooden beams that started at the floor and met each other at the ceiling in the shape of a triangle.

Similarly, the other food stations complimented some feature in the home. Rectangles, hexagons, squares, cubes . . . you name it.

I had been to my friend’s house many times. I had always admired the beauty of their house. I had seen everything before, but this was the first time that the shapes of the house started to stand out to me. The way that they had been placed together or used as juxtapositions was remarkable.

All that time I had never seen it for the piece of art that it really was and it finally took some shaped dinner plates to open my eyes.

Art. Plain and simple.

I’ll never be able to come up with things like that. It just isn’t in my nature. I’m glad that there are people out there who see the world so differently and can make things like this for the rest of us to enjoy!

Dear Atlas Blog Readers and loyal customers (all of whom I hope are becoming huge Mr. Event fans),

It’s the time of week again to learn what your favorite mystery man (that’s me, Mr. Event) thought about something he experienced! I’m excited about it, and I know that you are too.

In my first blog I told you that I was going to tell you about a disappointing dessert that I had at an event. Then, in my last blog, I completely forgot to write about it! I know that our relationship is new, so I don’t want you to think that I’m building it on lies . . . I’m not. I just forget things from time to time.

I first realized that I broke my promise when I was walking down the street and two people were talking in an outside café about the Mr. Event Blog and how they were kind of bummed out that I didn’t talk about the dessert.

The conversation went a little like this:

Person 1: I just read Mr. Event’s second blog and I’m kind of disappointed that he didn’t write about the dessert he said he was going to in his first column.

Person 2: Yeah, me too.

Person 1: In fact, I think I’m kind of angry about it.

Person 2: Yeah, me too.

True story. I swear.

All I can do is apologize. I’m sorry I made everyone disappointed and angry. But I can correct it by talking about desserts now.

This particular event I attended was a number of years ago. Long before I became the fabled blogger known as Mr. Event, so I really wasn’t looking for anything to write about. However, the crushing disappointment about this dessert has stayed with me for a number of years.

So there I was at this event. It was a nice event and I mean NICE. Two companies had just merged in a deal that I’m sure made a number of people a serious amount of money and they were in the mood for some celebrating.

We’re talking about the standard show-off kind of stuff: white gloved waiters, hor d’oeuvres made from expensive animals, fine suits, an open bar with top-shelf liquors, etc. They really rolled out the red carpet . . . literally.

After the obligatory cocktail hour, we sat down for dinner. The dinner itself was amazing. It lived up to the hype and buzz that the cocktail hour had promised.

I remember being upset that the dinner was over, but I was so excited for dessert I hadn’t noticed the subtle warning signs that we were in trouble, like the lack of dessert silverware on the table.

Some of my tablemates had even started to speculate on what could be coming. Bananas Foster, Baked Alaska and profiteroles were quietly being whispered from ear to ear. I thought individual chocolate fountains would be nice at the very least and I found myself wondering if it would be a faux pas to bury my face in the liquid chocolate and just start gulping it down.

Then a hush went through the room as the waiters appeared carrying trays towards the tables. When they reached us, they paused and lifted the trays high into the air. The anticipation was at a boil. A woman somewhere to my right let out a restrained squeak and passed out. In one synchronized, arching motion, the waiters placed the trays down on the table and there it was . . . our desert:

Chocolate chip cookies.

Seriously. That was it. Chocolate chip cookies.

The disappointment was evident and immediate. I could see people looking around at each other with confused looks on their faces. The woman who had passed out in anticipation had been revived and, upon seeing what awaited her, passed out again. (Ok, maybe I’m embellishing a little bit, but it was a serious disappointment.)

It was a tray of chocolate chip cookies. A dessert that, in any other setting, would have probably been enough to make everyone in the room happy. Heck, I’ve been to family parties where fights have broken out over the last chocolate chip cookie. They’re a classic. But here, it wasn’t enough.

I went to a wedding once of two recent college graduates. They didn’t have two pennies to scratch together but they were truly in love. You could see it every time they looked at each other. The wedding was small with only the closest family and friends on the guest list. In place of a cake they had cupcakes that the bride had made that very morning before she got ready to walk down the aisle.

They were nothing special, but they were the best cupcakes I ever had.

The tray of chocolate chip cookies was grossly out of place. Apparently the wife of one of the owners loved them and had made a big stink about serving them. She thought it would be fun. It could have been, but in this setting it wasn’t.

Years later, whenever I see people who were there, they don’t talk about the waiters, or the open bar, or the great location . . . they talk about the tray of cookies.

I suppose what I’m saying is that anything can work anywhere, but you have to consider things as a whole event with little working parts. If one of those parts doesn’t fit right, it could put the whole event out of sync.

Until next time everyone. Remember, I’ll be seeing you, but you won’t be seeing me.

Dear Atlas Blog Readers and Loyal Customers,

It’s been another week and I’m back! I don’t know about you, but I’m excited about it.

Believe it or not, but for me, not every week is packed full of super-fun events to attend. I would imagine that the same is true for many of you, and if it isn’t, please don’t tell me. . . I already feel bad enough!

This last week was one such time that my calendar was blank. There was a moment where I even thought that my phone might be broken. It was working fine of course. It turns out the reason it wasn’t ringing was because no one was calling. Go figure.

My salvation finally came from my father. The phone rang, and I quickly answered. I didn’t answer it too quickly. . .  I didn’t want to appear desperate you know? I’m smooth like that.

A short 3 years ago, my brother gave my dad a gift certificate to Ruth’s Christ Steakhouse. We had begun to believe he was going to leave it in his Last Will and Testament but thankfully we were mistaken (although there is still the unused McDonald’s gift certificate I gave him).

So, thanks to the thoughtfulness of my brother and the timeliness of my father, I found my Friday night beginning to look promising.

I had never been to Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse before. All I knew about it was that the word STEAK was in the title and that is really all I needed to know. I have, of course, been to other restaurants; I believe I’ve already mentioned McDonalds. The night at Ruth’s Chris was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.

Previously, my idea of good service was getting a table at a restaurant in a decent amount of time, having an attentive waiter/waitress who keep the drinks full and served the food hot and that’s really about it. I’m a simple guy but I think that is what makes most people happy when they go out to dinner.

Apparently, my brother had called ahead and told Ruth’s Chris that it was my father’s birthday. He left out the fact that we were using a 3 year old birthday present and my father’s most recent birthday was several months ago, but the staff at Ruth’s Chris didn’t need to know that.

When we arrived at our table my father was very delighted to see that “Happy Birthday” confetti had been sprinkled across the table. The hostess acknowledged my father and wished him a happy birthday. She didn’t need to know it wasn’t really his birthday, and from the glint in my father’s eye, it seemed that he had even forgotten it wasn’t his real birthday.

I’m not a huge fan of confetti (glitter is worse), but it was obviously a nice touch and made my father feel good. When we sat down at the table, I noticed something else that was quite a surprise. My brother’s girlfriend was wearing a very nice black dress. While my father’s, brother’s and my napkins were all white, my brother’s girlfriend’s napkin was black to match her dress.

Now we’re just getting silly!

My father ordered a T-bone steak. The waitress informed us that there was only one left, but she would hurry to put the order in so we could get it. While we were waiting for our steaks the waitress came back with some bad news. She thought she had put the order for the T-bone in in time, but there was a mix up and someone else got it first.

My father looked a little despondent . . . this wasn’t supposed to happen on birthdays. Then the waitress informed him that she they had prepared the closest steak to the T-bone that they had left for the rest of the night: A 44 oz. Porterhouse for Two!

I thought my father was going to die of happiness right there. By comparison, if this had happened with my gift certificate at McDonalds, it would have been like my father ordering a basic cheeseburger and getting 20 twenty Angus Burgers instead.

As my father began to dive into the steak that was bigger than his head a manager came over to gently ask how we were enjoying our meal. He apologized for the confusion with the steaks. When the bill came the Porterhouse wasn’t on it. Class act.

When we left the restaurant and approached the valet stand, our car was already waiting for us.

Taken separately all of those things would have been nice.  Put them all together and you have an experience that really makes you feel special. My father had such a great night that I believe he is officially changing his birthday to last Friday.

I guess that’s what real service is. We are nowhere close to being royalty, but for one night we felt pretty close.

Some things you just can’t put a price tag on. We’ll definitely be back.

Setting a table.

It can be the worst part of any event, party or holiday. People try to avoid it at all costs, including offering to do the dishes at the end of the meal instead!

How did setting a table become such a nightmare, especially when it is really very easy? The answer lies with the fact that most people, when given more than one fork, knife, glass or plate, don’t know what to do with them.

Not knowing what the extra utensils are used for in the first place makes it almost impossible to set a proper table when the time comes.

When dining, the general rule for using the setting is moving from the outside in. . . first fork is for the salad, the next fork is for the main course, etc.

But is there a rule for setting the table?

There is: The “Right Left, Right Left” rule.

It’s easy. 

• To the right of the plate, place your soup spoon and knife.


• To the left of the plate, put a napkin down and then place your dinner fork next to the plate, and then the salad fork next to the dinner fork.


•  Back to the right side of the plate. . . place a water glass directly above the knife followed by a red wine glass and then a white wine glass as you move away from the plate.


• Finally we return to the left again where you simply place a butter dish above the forks and lay a butter knife across the dish. Simple.

Watch the video, remember “Right Left, Right Left” and tell all the family members who usually hide from setting a table to be ready to get working!

Then just pray that your guests don’t get your linens too dirty!

Charity. That one word means many different things to many different people.

For some it is the cause that may lead to a loved one’s cure; to others it is the helping hand that lifts a person up and reinvigorates their spirit.

Charity lives in all of our hearts but in the world of business, charity is also an expense.

How do we, as business leaders, walk the careful line to continue our commitment to sponsoring charity while maintaining the financial health of our companies?

The answer is that we must begin to think of our role in charitable contributions in a new way.

This year, at Atlas Party Rental, we discovered an approach to charitable giving that lifts us from being just another nameless, faceless vendor on a list to a truly dynamic group of people who are a part of the charities to which we contribute.

APR, in conjunction with Seaview Radio, has begun a program called the Charity Minute. Every week APR picks a specific charity and provides free commercial airtime on Seaview Radio to promote their charities.

This new approach to our involvement with charities has allowed us to get to know the great people involved with the charities and the actual purpose of the charities themselves. Instead of providing a table, or chairs, or glassware, we contribute a service that has deeper, far reaching effects.

This season we have redefined the way in which we view our social responsibilities. By taking the time to think about our role, we have opened a door that not only aids charities in a better way, we have also honored our responsibilities to our business.
All it takes is a little time. And as most people involved in charities know, giving time is what makes everything possible.