The Forty Days

Who is Dr. Party?  Is he a medical doctor with a proclivity for good times?  No.  Is he a Ph. D who completed his dissertation on the positive and negative effects of performing keg stands?  Could be, but that sounds like a stretch.  Maybe, you say, he is merely a figment of our imagination–a story told to us as little children to encourage us to believe in the healing power of libations and the restorative effects of dancing all night long.  What?  Are you on drugs?  You’re all wrong.  Dr. Party is Greg Gordon, owner of partymachines.com, purveyor of foam, bubble, snow, and flogo (which I think involves floating logos or something) machines.

Greg is the winner of my I Am Your Personal Assistant Contest, mostly because of the amount of times he mentioned the word foam in his entry and because he used the sentence fragment “if you intend to play in the foam.”  Oh, Greg Gordon, you had me at “foam.”  I meet Greg, who reminds me of my favorite Arrested Development character Gob, at his warehouse at 9:45 am.  He gives me a tour of the warehouse, which is simultaneously a five-year-old’s dream and nightmare–filled with fun bubble, foam, and snow machines, but also full of power tools, huge boxes, and electrical outlets.  He immediately turns on a snow machine for me to play with.  This is the most snow I’ve seen in Austin in the last three years!  I realize that I am such a child–lured into a strange man’s warehouse with promises to play with his snow and foam machines.  Did I learn nothing from all those after-school specials?

After playing in sweet, sweet, fake snow, Greg and I leave to run some errands.  Most importantly, we go to the bank, as Greg is signing his first business loan–in the business’ name (not his) and without a co-signer.  I feel honored to be present on this momentous occasion, which takes less than 15 minutes.  Greg asks me if, as his attorney, I want to review the loan documents.  Hmmm, I’ll pass.

On our way to run an errand at his downtown apartment, we talk about Greg’s experience as a small business owner.  Greg started his business thirteen years ago with soda and margarita machine rentals.  He eventually expanded to renting karaoke, chocolate, foam, and snow machines.  At some point, Greg ditched the other machines (he asserts that he absolutely hates margarita machines) and concentrates on manufacturing and selling–and sporadically renting–foam, bubble, snow, and flogo machines.  Greg tells me that the best thing about being a small business owner is the freedom it entails–no one can tell him what to do and when and no one can fire him.  The most challenging aspect about being a small business owner, however, is making the phone ring and then being there to pick it up.  I also learn that Greg ran for mayor in 2001.  (To see his campaign commercial, click here.)

We arrive at his apartment around 11 am, only to barge in on a couple of sleeping house guests.  Ummm, hello.  I’m just going to stand here awkwardly in the kitchen if that’s alright with everyone.  They eventually wake up, and Greg tells them I’m his personal assistant for the day.  They seem confused.  I tell them he won me in a contest.  One of them asks, “Are you yanking my chain?”  Unfortunately, good sir, I am not.  We leave shortly thereafter and meet Greg’s attorney-friend for lunch at El Arroyo, which Greg pays for.  Thanks, el jefe.

Upon arriving back at the warehouse, we get a snow machine and some foam solution ready for shipping, move some boxes in the warehouse, and then set up the almighty foam machine.  Earlier in the morning, Greg informed me that because it is cold and rainy, I might not get to play in the foam.  What?  Damn you, old man winter!  I shed a couple tears, throw a minor tantrum, and Greg acquiesces.  Hot damn!  Oh, ooh, ooooh, yeah, we’re gonna have a party . . . all night long (or for five minutes during the day in a warehouse parking lot).  We set up the foam machine, which starts pouring copious amounts of foam into the parking lot, and I dive in.

Two words.  Awe.  Some.  I am, however, a little confused.  I was relatively certain that there would be a pack of sorority girls at the bottom of that foam.  Nope, just dirty pavement.  Needless to say, my clothes are soaked in foam.  Well worth it.

After cleaning off and putting away the foam machine, I end the day shortly thereafter.  Greg gives me a t-shirt, some karaoke songs, and a wireless karaoke mic as parting gifts.  Suh-weet!  I probably did more playing than actual assisting, but I don’t think Greg minds.  After all, he’s getting all the exposure from being featured on my blog, which now has over fifteen readers!  Just ask Karisa from Taste No Evil Muffins about what a feature on my blog did for her business.  I kid you not, she sold three more muffins than usual the next day.  Cha-ching!  So, if you have any foam, snow, bubble, or flogo related-needs, Greg is the man to satisfy those needs–but only those needs.  If you need someone to exorcise the demons that have overtaken your pet goldfish, Mr. Swimmy, call a priest or marine biologist or something.  You can find Greg and his party machines at partymachines.com or you can give him a call at 512-DR-PARTY.

Who is Dr. Party, you ask?  A man who puts smiles on the faces of man-children everywhere.  And that’s all you need to know.