Pah-tay

Last Saturday, Fred and I went to two parties. In the mid-Nineties it was nothing for me to go to two or three really great parties on the weekend. Ah, youth. Anyway, I knew about the one party. It was a 40th birthday party for one of Fred’s nieces, Monica, and it was a themed party: Seventies and Eighties. I was up in the air about what to wear. I didn’t want to buy anything. I figured I could find something in my closet and transform it into something that would pass. Plus, the whole ‘dress up’ thing doesn’t really go over big here. People don’t (in my experience) generally participate. Plus, when you factor in who would be at the party (his family), there was little chance that there would be a lot of participation in the dress up part of the evening.

When we were a few hours from take off, Fred sprung it on me that we would also be going to Ingrid’s 5oth birthday party. We had discussed it and had decided that since it was in the middle of nowhere, we could bow out gracefully. Plus, it’s that whole crowd (with a few exceptions such as the folks from our eating group). However, Fred said we would take a taxi so it would be a less painful experience.

The first party was in the Caribbean Club, a small themed room in a bowling alley in the North of Haarlem. (Picture any bowling alley in the world on a Saturday night, but in this one everyone was speaking Dutch.) It was the usual suspects: Fred’s family, plus a few people from Monica’s life. A few people put a lot of effort into dressing up. Most people were on par with Fred and me, that sort of outfit that you think, There’s just a little something off. Walking down the street, most people wouldn’t have gotten a second look. But it’s the Netherlands, so it’s already about twenty years behind the rest of the world. I’m kidding! (I’m not kidding.) Fred and I both wore shirts with vests and jeans. Fred’s looked more authentic, which is interesting since he just bought his and mine is ‘as old as the hills’ as my mother would say. I wore beads and, since I inherited the ape gene from my father and have a hairy chest, I wore my shirt opened to my…sternum.

The party was pretty regulation. The hostess wanted everyone to dance. However, the family did its thing and just stood and talked and drank beer, wine or juice. Plus, there were kids (pre-teens and younger) running from here to there the whole time. Sort of not my idea of an adult party. They dressed up and they danced.

My Dutch was awful that night. Sometimes it just doesn’t sync up. For some reason, I had about 23 words to work with and even those got mixed up. Add lots of ambient noise to that and it was a lot of standing and smiling for me, although one of his nieces got me to talking about television series and I was off to the races. When we were leaving, the hostess expressed disappointment at the lack of dancing. Oh well. Kiss kiss kiss. Off to party number two.

Ingrid’s party really was in a club house behind a grove of trees by a canal outside of a suburb. It was also a themed party: Hollywood this time. Fred decided we were Starsky and Hutch - in a parallel universe where the two stars are over the hill and bald. That was the party where Monica should have been. Fred said, “Let’s call them and have them come here!” I said, “No. Just call Monica.” There was lots of dancing - they had a much better DJ - and everyone was lubricated with their favorite beverage, if you know what I mean. Plus, everyone was dressed up. There were a lot of hospital people, which can be a crazy crowd. (They work on a mental unit.) I worked on a mental unit. I know the crowd.

We saw two people who Fred hadn’t seen in years. Strange to find these pockets of people from his former life that I’ve never even heard about. And the eating group was there, which was nice. Always good to see some friendly faces.

We got home at a reasonable hour and then we sat on the couch until three in the morning. Interestingly, we were up the next morning at about 7:30.

That photo above is from 1983. I believe it was the Choir Banquet. That’s Patty. She still wears that dress on formal occassions.