Occasion Rising

Wife and PanaGal At Start of Party

I’m not proud to admit to this but I thought I was all partied out yesterday after a prodigious amount of same over the past few days.  I was rescued from this misconception and the general malaise of self-doubt by the sprightly form of the woman I’m lucky enough to be married to.  Panamanians never seem to tire of trying to wring the absolute most joy life has to offer and the Worcester Chapter of the Panamanian Mafia certainly rose to the occasion last night with a post-Christmas party.

The Gallant Hostess Laying Out the Food

The day started out innocently enough as we awoke in Keene Friend’s house after his Christmas party.  We stopped by to spend some time with my mother’s best friend because it wouldn’t truly be Christmas if we didn’t get a chance to see her.  She was a fixture of my family’s Christmas for as long as I could remember.  She’s in her nineties now and still as feisty and pleasant as ever.  It offered me a chance to reconnect with a Mom who’s impossibly been gone for more than a decade now.

The Jokester (red shirt)

We returned home where I was completely suspect of my ability to attend the planned Worcester party last night.  My wife dismissed any doubts as she and the newly resident PanaGal went about preparations.  I was sentenced to Couch Potato Position #1 to watch college football and do some loin girding for the evening.

The Sedate Phase

The party started out innocently enough with a bunch of middle aged friends sitting around the table and kitchen sharing some Christmas cheer and recounting recently concluded adventures.  This group, however, has a tendency to quickly move past the mundane and engage in behavior bordering on the epic.  While I contented myself with Golden, Colorado’s most famous export the group’s jokester had supplied several bottles of his newest fascination – Culitos wine.  “Culitos” means “butt” or “fanny” with an appropriate label proclaiming the word’s meaning.  Surprisingly, in the opinion of the wine drinkers – the party’s Culitos were admirable (the wine too).

The Wine

We first had to get through a kitchen filled to the brim with a memorable dinner as everyone contributed a couple of dishes.  Dessert was especially painful since my keto vacation had ended the night before.

Wife Giving Dance Lessons

I discovered that my wife had been kidnapped by the host’s grandchildren and I found her conducting dancing lessons in a nearby bedroom (the Panamanian blood runs strong in this group).  The dance fever soon migrated to the older generation which is not at all surprising.  In the same vein was the fact that my wife one of the ringleaders of that migration.

Older Generation Dancing

There wasn’t an open space for dancing but furniture was moved and they are nothing if not resourceful when it comes to creating a dance floor.  The rest of the evening was a really fun exploration of that expedient dance floor.  I texted with my daughter and Wingman who were returning to their L.A. home with another long road trip.  They were just arriving home when I reported her mother was conducting a scorched earth campaign on said dance floor. 

The Improvised Dance Floor

We arrived home after midnight totally gassed (again) but I took a moment to reflect how done I thought I was at the beginning of the day.  The subsequent events certainly gave lie to those feelings of inadequacy.  Its times like this I give thanks to the tiny but energetic party animal I’m married to.  I’m holding out hope for the delayed recovery time today though.

Bring on the Dancing Girls!