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Gold Framed/Matted Print 17x23, At His Back Home Party

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Christmas Party

I stood alone, in green-gold silk and blood red pashmina
In heels that killed my tired feet and wished for
Relief, so I sat upon the nearest seat, a hard chaise-longue
Sexy, perched, beside the dessert plate that was now used
As a depository for ash and butts of fags coolly smoked
By those who would always justify their harmful habit,
So I add just one more stub to the pile and think to stir it
Like something to eat, with the silver fork now buried underneath
Observing guests with feigned interest and note
Her hair, his shoes, no names remembered, I don't even care
What is the point of introductions, starting gun to conversations
Because we would not speak even though we had just
Crossed looks across the baubled table of Christmas fare
The food looked messy, now, disordered - olive stones
Looked like another offered dish besides the displaced dates
Next to the cucumber covered salmon, mighty fish reduced
To pink and green and mayonnaise and brazil nuts?
Well everything gets moved as plates are passed
With nice to see you, looking good, how long has it been since last
We met? Who could not make it, who got delayed
Air-kissed greetings on both cheeks by those I had not seen
For more than fifty weeks and won't again - but resume
Examining connections to the hostess and seeing change
Of familiar faces and recounting stories of shared places
We had been or will one day go, and all the while
I think I'd like to go, home, to bed - just stop this
But lift bottle after empty heavy bottle to find a drop
Of more champagne, but no, they'd drunk the lot and so
I switch, to orange juice? no thanks, no thank you
Then raid the fridge and pop another wired cork before
The taxi comes. Yes, goodbye, we hardly talked, you and I
Whose taxi waits in drizzle, meter running, quick be quick
My thoughts wonder at the choice of feeling queasy or being sick

©Harriet Green
From Luciana: Below the Belt, Chameleon Library 2004, ISBN 0954818105

Explore #58 August 24, 2008

Please meet David Ostergaard.
David is a Mime, actor and owner of a Children's Theater.
If it looks like I hit gold when taking David's picture... you are right!
I found David in a wheelchair, sprayed gold at the conference "A Call to Action" regarding Culture Change in Nursing Homes.
Perhaps by being gold and in a wheelchair, David was showing us what we could expect in our "Golden Years"!
When I first saw David, I was careful not to stare... after all, I do spend my time in Nursing Homes and know better than to stare at someone who is physically challenged. It took a while for me to realize that he was a Mime! You would have thought the gold complexion would have been the give away, but I just thought the man was a little jaundiced!!!
Imagine my surprise when the party began and the DJ started to play that funky music and David got up from his wheelchair and began to dance with all the conference attendees!
He was extremely funny and a very good actor and very quickly had everyone laughing and dancing along with him!
I asked David if I could take his pic for my first posting in 100 Strangers and he was thrilled. I asked him how he would like to be seen and remembered and he struck this pose!
Thank you David for showing us such a fun time.. even people determined to change the world need a good laugh every now and then!!! LOL!