Friday, June 14, 2013

Happy Friday

Good Morning Everyone,

   It's been a busy week, but I promise I'll be back on Monday with something new. Find a sunny spot this weekend and do something fun.
Or if you have to go to a kid's party, consider this:


Most kids' parties are the same. There's a clown or a storm trooper or a princess or a bouncey or bowling. There is one parent in charge running around like a car spinning out at the Daytona 500. There are the hoverers who want to stay and get involved and show everyone how they really have a handle on the parenting thing. They go on the bouncey (Come on!) or they try to make some spectacular artistic creation at the craft table that's better than any 7 year old's can hope to be. There's other parents who sit on a couch and text the whole time. There are others who just drop their kids off, driving away with a skid before the back door has even closed. After the first activity, there's pizza and soda, hot dogs and hamburgers or (if the host is a new parent) carrots with dip and salad. Then everyone watches the magician. Then everyone sings. Then there's a sugar injection overdose (or worse, a sugar-free, gluten-free, all organic straight from farm to table pile of cat-turd) and gift bags filled with more sugar or crappy plastic things that you'll later find under your sofa or stuck down the back seat of the car. Then everyone is asked to get the hell out. Done.

Last week though, I went to one and the first thing I notice, is an entire table covered with shot glasses of vodka. Before I go on I have to mention that the family hosting the party was Russian. Of course. All Russians drink vodka all day long. 
Still, not only was there a table covered with shot glasses of vodka, but Gramps of the party child was standing there offering them as you walked by.
Oh no, no thanks. That's so nice, no.
"Why not?" It pissed him off a little, but he wanted to understand.
It's 12 o'clock?..I only drink once or twice a year?.. I have to drive later? Each response I gave was more confusing to him. He shook his head like there was a gnat flying around him. He held the glass out. "Come on. Have".
Then I thought, he's right!  Why not? What could be wrong with shots of alcohol at a kids party in the hot late morning sun? At the beach?
I took the glass and took a tiny sip, like an elf or a butterfly, and instantly the hair on my arms stood up, my head shook and I had to kick out my left leg. Oh!
I wish I could tell you I had a few, and met some of the parents and had a good talk and a laugh with my head thrown back. And we ate caviar and smoked and discussed adult things like chess and Dostoyevsky. Then we all took off our clothes and had a big orgy under the boardwalk while the kids, some of them whimpering and frightened, others fearless and giddy, wandered through the crowded pier by themselves. But I didn't. I dumped the remainder of the glass in the sand and sat on a bench watching Harry and his friends play, checking my watch, waiting for 2 o'clock and the gift bag of plastic toys and candy.

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