SOME THINGS NEVER CHANGE…..zuki seeks ‘fountain of youth’

Good Morning Revelers, (2007)

Although I don’t want anyone to think this happens to me ALL the time, occasionally ‘life’s rich pageant’ delivers a detour that sends you careening over the edge. Sadly though, I’m at that point where these unique occurrences are perceived as a pitiful old man trying to recapture his youth.

When I was 20-something it never occurred to me that my parents had their particular way of partying exclusively to their generation as did I. We had ‘Keggers’ in which many people were in attendance but knew few of them personally. We traded weekend parties with a group of guys I met while an indentured servant in the Army as they lived on the opposite side of town; so it was truly a hodgepodge of characters.

The traditional methodology consisted of the game “Thumper,” ‘nipple clamp uncle,’ beer chugging, and accouterment’s suitable for the occasion. More importantly though, I think what must be universal to all generations is the goal of getting into someone’s pants.

Last weekend I was invited to a birthday party and was impressed by what I found.

Impecuniousness aside, my normal routine after leaving The Maggot is to stop for a nightcap and a bowl of ‘steak soup’ from the bar at Lone Star Steakhouse just blocks from my home.

In the years I’ve been doing this I have come to know several of the young bartenders on a first name basis and to the best of my knowledge one or two of them actually access this forum from time to time.

As I was finishing my beer and soup, Kellie, my bartender informed me of a birthday party for Jake (her boyfriend) to ensue right after their shift in about an hour. I thanked her but deep down inside knew my presence was really not expected nor wanted by a group of 20-25-year-olds, so I said I’d think about it but probably not.

After getting home I began to entertain the idea and reconsidered my decision based primarily on curiosity. Why should I deprive myself of the association of 70 young people bent on getting hammered? Not wanting to evaluate that visual too closely I wondered if their party was all that dissimilar to the way I used to carry-on. Why not? Because after all number one; I was invited. Two; it was free alcohol, and three; their house was literally two blocks from mine!

I never have the opportunity to party with impunity because the gauntlet of sobriety checkpoints or the dreaded burnt out tail light is ever lurking ready to spoil everything with a DUI. I headed out the door on a mission!

When I got to Jake and Kellie’s house it sounded as though the party had begun in earnest. Middle-class white guys with angst screaming about how bad they have it music was loud enough to be heard but not enough to disturb neighbors sleeping. I knocked several times and rang the doorbell incessantly but nobody heard me so I opened the door to a split level house with most of the action upstairs.

As I climbed the half-dozen steps I could tell I was getting noticed. Like the movie ‘Animal House’ a young man quickly stashed his bong while others left the crowded front room to escape out the back. Still, others were frozen in shock as the bash came to a grinding halt.

“Who in the name of Mary Jane is that?” I could almost hear from the stunned boys and girls. I began to introduce myself but my host came from downstairs to assure everyone I wasn’t a cop or someone’s angry father and finished the introduction.

I figured it was up to me to get things started again and asked the nervous young man to retrieve the bong so I could partake. I was given a standing ovation after hitting it deeply and only coughed once at the end. I was immediately accepted (primarily as a novelty item) and the carousel again gained momentum.

The first thing of notice when comparing old school parties with this one was that my hosts allowed guests to bring their dogs. Fortunately, only a handful decided to bring their pets but kept them outside. There was one exception though as a young woman brought her small dog downstairs.

I was asked to select some blues I thought most might enjoy; the dog immediately defecated on the carpet. I began to laugh and snicker because the young woman was mortified as if she’d been caught squeezing one off! She quickly cleaned it up blathering apologies and put the mutt outside.

‘Beer Pong,’ Poker, and dancing on the outside deck mixed with laughter kept the place buzzing while several serious philosophical discussions bent on how best we could secure world peace in our time.

While this may not be a revelation to the two or three of you ‘slipping this Mickey’ but I was highly impressed by the young adults I met. Those that would engage me in conversation without a slurred “I love you man” were smart and articulate.

As expected though, there were those guests who passed out behind the tree where the dogs took turns in mock sodomy humping their lifeless bodies. This provided a great deal of entertainment to those left standing in addition to those few friends unable to hold their liquor and from a sitting position deliver projectile vomit from the driveway to someone’s hubcaps. What a marvelous night!

It took 48 hours to recover from my night of crapulous debauchery but I retired that morning with a smile on my face knowing full well I am WAY TOO old for this shit but comforted by the fact that over the generations some things never change. “Party on Garth.”