Fundraisers, Las Vegas and Dale Chihuly

Fundraisers are fun.

I mean the people, not the dreaded events of selling the fill-in-the-blank-item for your favorite cause.

Fundraisers are resourceful. They practically raise their own salaries and operating budgets, all the time aware of the fact donors give to causes to further the mission of the organization, not to pad employees’ pockets. Often they work for pennies-on-the-dollar of what their business counterparts might earn for the same level of education and experience. After years of navigating the high voltage interpersonal relationships of nonprofit boards, successful fundraisers have congenial strong leadership skills that are enviable.

Yet that is the beauty of this crowd.  Don’t waste time turning green with envy. Simply ask what lessons they’ve learned over the years and most will openly share the secrets to their success.  Why? Because they love the field. They love the cause. And they love opensource communication to bring about betterment for all involved.

Most of all, fundraisers are fun. They always know the great things to do in town, because they go to every cool event in town to NETWORK. They know which parties are when, and they know who throws the best parties. They know which art galleries have a new opening, which restaurants have the best tapas and which festivals are worth a sunburn.

So I listen when my fundraising friends make recommendations.

A few years ago a fundraising friend told me about Dale Chihuly. Heard of him? He is an artist known for his breathtaking large-scale glass sculptures.

My fundraising friend came through for me.  In January I saw my first Dale Chihuly work in person. I’m a die-hard converted fan.

In November my husband and I began what we like to call “life in transition”. That’s sort of a palatable way of saying we were downsized out of our jobs, but transition sounds better to us. (Kind of like the new marketing campaign to sell dried plums.  Delicious huh? Yep, they’re just plain-old prunes.  Perhaps Shakespeare was on to something.  A rose under another name maybe doesn’t really smell as sweet.)

So my husband was interviewing for a job in Las Vegas in January.  Really, he may as well been signing us up with NASA to start a new community on the moon. We spent a whirlwind weekend in Las Vegas while he interviewed.

Our gracious host, who by the way is an Alabama boy and a diehard Auburn fan (yes, he was thrilled to hear that the War Eagles give me warm fuzzy feelings of home), took us on a tour of the strip one night. 

When we entered the Bellagio I squealed in delight.  Had we been nearer to the slots I think passers-by would have thought I hit the jackpot.  Nope.  I simply spied my first Chihuly on the ceiling of the lobby.

“Is that a Dale Chihuly?” I shrieked as I practically ran toward the piece, much like a kid in a candy aisle of Walmart.

The group with me looked at me as though I was speaking Greek.

“You know, the artist!” I exclaimed.

A few minutes later, a little research confirmed, indeed, the ceiling was a Dale Chihuly installation. Over 2,000 brilliantly-colored blown glass pieces merge together to form what looks like a whimsical field of flowers on the ceiling. It was awesome! I stood and stared upward, mouth open in appreciation, for what seemed like an eternity.

Well, we’re not moving to the moon or Las Vegas, but I continue on with fullest respect for my fundraising friends. They’ve taught me to keep looking up in life.