The Holiday Party

A crowded house; steam rising from dishes; neighbors who know each other casually; everyone dressed up and drinking cocktails; little hot dogs on sticks; obligatory shrimp with red sauce; a festivity; festive people; amusing; oddball conversations. I found myself talking about Nelson Rockefeller with the fellow who lives across the way. He worked for “Rocky” back in the 60’s as did my father. As a kid I even talked to the governor once. He looked me over and said, “Hiya Fella!” Apparently he said this to everybody. According to my neighbor, Rocky couldn’t remember names. Everyone was “Fella” and that was that. Those were the days when there were no women in government. I wondered what the feminine of “fella” might be…it occured to me it would be Jerry Lewis’ grating “Hey, Lady!” This made me think of Jerry Lewis as governor. Jerry Lewis as president of France. I ate a carrot with ranch dressing. I bumped into people because of course I can’t see. I resisted eating the deserts. I told an indecorous joke. I thought about telling a second joke but resisted. Ate an olive with a hot pepper stuffed inside. I wished the yule party was in Finland where people link hands and dance around the house. They don’t dance at American holiday gatherings. Outside there was a full moon in mist and a ring around the moon and deep cold. 

Author: skuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University

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