"You've Got to Fight for Your Right to Party"

Have you ever been invited to a party that you knew would be predominately populated by individuals who were older, more mature, and more married, and apparently more fertile than you are? (Note: I'm not saying I'm not fertile; I just haven't taken the opportunity to proliferate as other people have, that's all). Tonight, I attended a party my sister put on for all of her friends and some of her family members.

The food was quite delicious; I ate much more than ought to--as usual--taking seconds on the cheese ball and the artichoke dip--both kinds--and sat by myself "so primly propped" (from John Crowe Ransom's "Bells for John Whiteside's Daughter") for much of the evening while the other adults conversed among themselves about, um, adult things (Note: Not those kind of adult things!). The only parts of the conversation which presented me with opportunities for interjection were the literary and political portions. The literary portion, which included the explanation of current writing projects and publishing endeavors on my part, as well as the particular books I have been reading, was particularly engaging and interesting and delightful (Note: My sister took the opportunity to express her widely unpopular views of Of Mice and Men and John Steinbeck during this part of the evening). After all, literature "is my country / and I speak to it of itself / and sing of it with my own voice / since certainly it is mine" (from Amy Lowell's "Lilacs").

Unfortunately, the two plates of food I had ravenously consumed revisited me innumerable times in the form of gastrointestinal pressure during the course of the party--again, as usual--and, I finding no outlet for my discomfort with all of those other people around, added somewhat to the general dampening of my partying spirit.

However, all of these things aside, any opportunity to pass the time with my family is well worth it to me, so for that very reason the party was a success as far as I am concerned (not to mention that my gift, a children's book, was one of only two presents which were highly sought after during the white elephant gift exchange). All of those other things I mentioned are hardly worth mentioning. So why did you mention them? you ask curiously. Well, I mention them because I believe they are very common sorts of feelings among reluctant party-goers, to which group I myself belong and have for many years. In fact, I imagine that many people dread such gatherings because they anticipate such awkward and uncomfortable encounters therein, often due to the lack of familiarity among the invitees, to such an extent that there might as well be a sign over the front door which reads "Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch'entrate!" (Abandon all hope, ye who enter here!) (from Dante Alighieri's La Divina Commedia). Perhaps, the next time someone invites you to a party, you should, instead of a brightly colored billboard announcing the entrance to Hell, in Lutherian fashio nail your own piece of parchment to the door and say, "but now lead on / in me is no delay" (from John Milton's Paradise Lost). If awkwardness and bouts of gas amount to the ultimate price of an evening well spent, I say pay the price willingly and shut your mouth about the rest.