« Home | Just one of those things... » | Beware the hippie invasion on 1 Sept... » | And the winner is...! » | There's no "I" in team, but there is a "me" » | Are you going my way? » | Ever the patriot! » | Gather 'round » | Just call me Nosy Parker » | Celebrate the passage of time » | Just for the record » 

Monday, September 05, 2005 

Tame by all accounts...

Well, I guess owe a post on Friday’s much anticipated hippie party. And to use a 60’s phrase… It was totally bitchen! Yep, Mrs [B] or Mama Cas, as she was called on the day, went the whole nine yards and she did not disappoint. The decorations alone were spectacular. There were beads hanging in all the doorways and coloured light bulbs in all the lamps and sockets. The walls were adorned with large neon posters declaring “Flower power”, “Make love not war”, and “Peace”. Daisy flowers, smiley faces, peace signs and all manner of hippie symbols were spread around the pub and entertainment area. Honey-combed paper balls hung from the ceiling... she even had a friggin disco ball! The curls were big, the Afros even bigger. We defied gravity and Newton’s First Law did not have a chance in hell. Never in my life had I seen so many white ppl with Afros (scary!). Strangely enough none of the blacks opted to don Afros. There were kaftans, paisley shirts, bell-bottoms, tight pants, short skirts, long hair, false eyelashes, painted faces, John Lennon sunglasses, fake pearls, mood rings and love beads. We sipped drinks out of brightly coloured Perspex glasses and smoked neon coloured cigarettes. The party picked up speed pretty fast. It started at around two and when I arrived at 4pm, the moon was in the seventh house, Jupiter had aligned with Mars and the Age of Aquarius had already dawned. Whoo-hoo! Welcome to Margarita-ville baby! Musically, all the greats were there…The Beatles, Joni Mitchell, The Doors, The Stones, Frank Zappa, the Mamas and the Papas, Donovan, etc. We grooved to the psychedelic 60s pop tunes and encouraged by the dj, threw our hands in the air and waved it around like we just didn’t care. Pretty lame, I know, but I wasn’t going to fight the feeling! Even stranger to me was the fact that some ppl actually knew the words to the songs. So much for my theory that the young people of then were too stoned to remember much. Surprise, Surprise… there was no scandalous behavior!! Most people, the Chitster included, were extremely well behaved. Mrs [B] runs a tight ship and I guess the sheer size of her in that kaftan was enough to make any wannabe party delinquent think twice. I caught a few ppl snogging and spreading a bit of love around, but nothing out of the ordinary. The funkiest thing I did was a slow dance with the bimbo to one of Donovan’s ballads. And with that, Donovan will now have a special place in my heart… right next to Bob Dylan. I am told that the party ended at around 8pm. I had left earlier and was home by 7. A quick shower and a change of clothes later, I met up with my mates at a pub in Rivonia around 10pm. Well done, Mrs. [B]… you got to be Mama Cas for a day and I got to keep my pants on and my tattoo well hidden.


Blog Directory & Search engine
Locations of visitors to this page