I went to a marvelous party, I should have bought red lipstick years ago, are there two 'l's in marvellous or one?

I ran into The Cowboy at The Hopetoun standing against the bar listening to Spencer's band. Andy Depressant was gumshoe dancing out all of my emotions with his rubber limbs and solo abandon while Spencer prowled on stage in his knitted tie and big black hat. The Hopetoun was a cauldron tonight and if it wasn't for the ringing of the excellent 'You're Never Too Tired To Rock Dale" show tune that three doctors improvised on Creamboy's front lawn earlier this afternoon I would have laid my head down on the cold tiles of the toilet floor and dreamed of a life aquatic.

This morning my mother phoned as I was zipping up my 50's style jungle print party dress to say that she would pick me up in an hour. "For what?" I said. It seems I had double booked myself, I had a moment of doubt where I thought I would ditch Creamboy's bbq for a family Christmas gathering but then I thought better of it and I donned my big hat and red shoes and packed my bag for West.

I had a filthy hangover so I downed two glasses of water and applied red lipstick and ran out the door. Driving on the highway I could feel the lack of fuel in body, I inadvertently skipped the last three meals, so I concentrated on staying in my lane and urged my body to use the stored fat, like a bear.

Creamboy's bbq was marvelous. I swanned around in my hat drinking pink lemonade and eating vegan cheesecake. I spent a while or two chatting with Creamboy's excellent brother Superman who is very interesting and rather tall. I wandered into conversation with a flock of doctors and silently vowed to stop all my doctor hating immediately. I found myself sitting happily in a circle of clear-eyed intellect. They had straight backs and open minds.

In the diminishing hour Creamboy played the piano while a doctor sang, yet another doctor taught me to waltz and I found myself mirrored into the opposite of last night where I sat in a backyard drinking and singing with my feet in the dirt while the guitars called out for bohemia. This changing of hats and dresses and voices, this peopled crowding of being, this is a reason why.

I didn't make to the end of Crow's set at the Hopetoun tonight. I tried fanning myself with Spencer's big black hat but the heat, oh Sydney your heat, pushed me out into the night where I sat and leaned my back against the pulsing windows. I jumped into a taxi with The Cowboy and we wound up at the Iron Duke where The Cowboy's friend drooped into a lament and The Cowboy spoke of his life. The Cowboy is a sketch from a different book.

Walking home I told The Cowboy that he seemed to have a tendency to fall in love. The Cowboy said " Oh I'll tell you what I'm like, you got to listen to what Steve Earle said:
Now when I was young I took me a wife
But she never took to the high country life
So now I'm alone and I don't really mind
But her name echoes down from the canyon sometimes"

Comments

Anonymous said…
Oh the pink lemonade, it travels everywhere! xoxo Rups
Anonymous said…
Ah Dale, one day methinks I'll slip some Gin in it ... ;) Rups
DS said…
As long as there's a swizzle stick or a plastic monkey, sometimes an umbrella is ok, but it better be pink.
"Like a bear" - ! There should be more bear-imitation in this country, dag nabbit. Fat utilisation is only the half of it.
BarOfSoap said…
dude - your writing it yum... i'll be back for more ruminating shortly... how's your box waltz? hao
DS said…
Alexis, too right, I intend to hibernate over Christmas.

Hao, Rad. Thanks. Believe it or not I have been practicing my box waltz, in case of waltzing emergency. Thanks for the lesson, it was delightful.