It's my company party, and I'll cry if I want to.

• Author: Falconi, Robert R.

It sure is nice outside today. Looking out the window of my luxurious corner office, I can see scores of joggers trying desperately to lose weight. It's summertime, time to bask in the sun (wearing SPF 15, of course), play badminton on the front lawn, sit on the veranda and drink mint juleps. It's also time for the company's annual picnic.

Almost every company has one. The purpose? To build camaraderie among the staff. It gives us all an opportunity to see our co-workers in a social setting - so you'll realize the program manager who was so rude to you yesterday is a regular person just like you. Maybe you'll even develop some compassion for her and learn to work together.

The theory is okay, but the reality is more like this: "Hey, there's that jerk from operations with her husband and her three little kids. Her kids are as obnoxious as she is. I can't believe she wore that to a company function." You don't interact unless you drink too much and, besides, you have to keep track of your own kids.

I've been "The Dragger," forcing my family to go to these company events. When the kids were smaller, I could just make pronouncements. "Today, we're going to the company's annual picnic and that's that!" But when the kids got older, they would sit cross-legged, a la Mahatma Gandhi, and just refuse to go. So much for family camaraderie.

I've also been "The Draggee," forced by my spouse to attend her company's picnic. The two parties were actually at the same park - a nice enough place, with lots of picnic tables and a place to barbecue hot dogs and hamburgers loaded with carcinogens. It also advertised swimming in a "scenic farm pond." So, rather than meet my wife's co-workers (who are no more interested in me than I am in them), I decided to go for a swim.

When I arrived at the pond, geese were swimming everywhere. Big geese. And you know what that means - lots of goose residue. I decided to meet my wife's co-workers and eat some hot dogs.

THE YULE RULE

As you might guess, I don't like the idea of company Christmas parties either, especially when employees are encouraged to bring their children. I used to drag my kids to these affairs, too. I made them dress up and be polite to people I didn't like myself. Needless to say, they weren't a happy lot.

When we arrived at the party, we were typically entertained by a band that would have put Lawrence Welk to sleep. I thought about dancing with my wife when they started playing "Silent Night," but I...