People often ask me to relate memorable stories about events we've produced during the last 20 years. Unfortunately, the most memorable ones usually require a sense of humor to remember them fondly - either from my perspective, my clients', or both.

One of the most unforgettable moments happened in 1991, at the topping out ceremony for the (then) NationsBank Corporate Center. The event, which took place in the new lobby, was designed to commemorate the completion of the lighted "crown" at the top of the building. We had a huge replica of the building carved out of ice, with neon imbedded in the facsimile of the crown. At the appointed time, Hugh McColl Jr. was supposed to pull a fake lever, the room would go dark, a laser show would begin and the ice-building would light up.

Throughout the planning process, my client Lynn Drury would tease me with, "What happens if Mr. McColl pulls the lever and nothing happens?"

Ha, ha.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity (but was probably only 45 seconds), off went the lights, on came the lasers, the ice was illuminated and my heart started functioning again. Thankfully, Lynn and I eventually learned to laugh at the memory.

I had the same feeling several months later at the Corporate Center Crown Lighting ceremony, when about 15,000 people gathered in Uptown Charlotte for a laser and fireworks celebration. At the VIP party under a tent, I watched proudly while the top bank brass and their clients ooh'ed and aah'ed at the lasers we projected onto the side of the tower and the fireworks we set off atop it. My stomach lurched when, after the grand finale, I watched Hugh McColl point to a balcony on his brand-new building, where a small fire had broken out. Oops.

(It was extinguished quickly with no damage, so I can laugh about that now, too.)

I can also laugh about the time an elderly South Carolina politician chased me around the table at the Governor's mansion while I tried to run an event; when I had to visit the Johnson C. Smith University Band Director in the hospital the day after we attempted to break the Guinness Book of World Records for a musical march; when the mime got drunk and passed out under the hors d'oeuvre table at the grand opening of Spirit Square; when a caterer unplugged the sound system during Chuck Grace's remarks as the outgoing Chairman of the Chamber of Commerce; when the sound guy plugged in the confetti cannons at the wrong moment during the grand opening of the Charlotte Apparel Center; when the goat ate through the drywall at the grand opening of the Jack Wood men's store; when the baby ducks escaped into the parking lot at a broker party in Raleigh; and when the clients forgot to send the invitations to their party so no one showed up.

Thomas Carlyle, a Victorian-era essayist, wrote, "No man who has once heartily and wholly laughed can be altogether irreclaimably bad." We might keep that in mind when we're faced with a challenge in the heat of the moment and we measure our reaction.

We can't control what goes on around us. And face it - special events are about the most uncontrollable things one can attempt. We can't always affect the outcome, but we can always affect our reaction to it.

Almost none of the happenings I've shared were funny at the time. They were mistakes, or miscalculations, on someone's part -- mine, a vendor's, a passerby's -- that affected the "perfect" occasion we had built in our minds. They had to be dealt with, atoned for, or fixed -- usually on the spot with no time to see the potential humor in them.

Later - much later - we can (and do!) heartily and wholly laugh.

Recently one of our project managers met with a client and the caterer for an upcoming event. At the meeting, the client asked, "Who typed the menu?" "I did," my manager said, wondering why she asked. It seems that for the Quesadilla station, she had typed, "Grilled Children served with guacamole and sour cream." After we stopped laughing, I e-mailed the client to assure her we don't serve children around here. (We find the adults are much tastier.)