Party animal update

Went to a party last night, a 50th birthday party for an old friend I'd known since childhood. She used to date my older brother, Robert, I used to avidly pursue her younger sister (who later became the first of my totem-muses, Alabaster) and there were two even younger susters...one of whom makes my lst of the five best kissers I've ever encountered...

It was an interesting party, I admit I am not much of a party person, but I believe in at least not trying to make people uncomfortable, so I joined in as best I could. Robert was there, I got to talk to some people I hadn't really spoken with in a quarter century and noticed parts of my psyche long underutilized are still operating, albeit on Los Angeles wavelengths. Ironically enough, the last party I recall going to was Anne Beatts' 50 birthday party, as the guest of a friend who knows her. It was a little intimidating to find yourself suddenly in conversation with a guest (nonames, please) who was one of the original "Not Ready for Prime Time Players" on "Saturday Night Live" (Ms. Beatts was one of the original writers on that show, and told a wonderful tale of her 21st birthday and being taken out by John Belushi, Michael "Mr. Mike" O'Donoghue and Garrett Morris that I daren't repeat here.)

I survived both parties and little worse for the wear. And, no, for some reason or other I didn't even really speak with the kisser...she had her hands full being the sparkplug of the party, and, besides, she's married now and I've pretty much sworn off of married women in my diet (note the slight escape hatch left in that clause)...

Oh, I gave the birthday girl a copy of "The Morgantown Suite Poems" and Robert gave her a copy of "THe Compleat Panther Cycles". Both were autographed, of course.

Oh, a cute anecdote to mention. I have assiduously avoided attention at my workaday job. I work for some cash and for the benefits (had my first physical in half a decade a few weeks ago), but, this being Morgantown, no one there really knows about my "other life" (It's funny, in Los Angeles and San Jose, people recognized me and approached me when I worked projects and jobs...here...I am an unknown, which is nice in a way)

Anythewaywho, one of the young ladies at work was talking to me and was working on something on her computer...I asked what she was up to and she said "Oh, I'm writing a poem...want to see it?" I smiled and said "Poetry? I heard about that once, I think." Then I read it and told her I thought it was very nice.

That's an old trick I learned from reading "The Bluffer's Guide to Cinema" many years ago. The author of that book said that people tend to think of films as "great" or "lousy" and that you'd get the occasional "okay" but that was usually said by the guy who watched the movie from the back row of the balcony with Crazy Shirley. When you really don't have much to say, or that you want to say, you give a lukewarm positive reaction. It saves on wear and tear and protects their ego. It actually wasn't bad, the poem. And my secret identity was intact.