Saturday, December 31, 2005

NYC NonNekkid Bloggers' Bash

NYC NonNekkid Bloggers' Bash took place last evening, on the Eve of New Year's Eve (AKA: Eve Eve).



PUNCH RECIPE:

FIFTH VODKA
1/2 FIFTH PEACH BRANDY
BOTTLE CONTREAU
2 BOTTLES MERLOT
1/4 CUP SUGAR
CINNAMON
ALLSPICE
NUTMEG

HEAT TO SIMMER, THEN TURN OFF HEAT, AND LET STAND FOR AN HOUR FOR FLAVORS TO MELD. REHEAT AND SERVE. AS NEW WINE ARRIVES WITH GUESTS, ADD A BOTTLE EACH TIME THE BASE IS HALF OF THE ORIGINAL VOLUME.

This punch starts a party quickly, but becomes less potent as the evening proceeds. Feed guests late (eleven or twelve) and you'll send them home sober, and no hangovers the next morning! Been using this recipe for parties for thirty years ~~ and not one bad party, grin.

First Guest was Agatha, right on time, arriving with a lovely bottle of wine, later added to the punch. Then a long long time till Sylvie arrived. Then another pause till Subway and democat arrived, both with guitars! (note ~~ democat brought her new 12 string guitar. I've never been right next to one played solo before in my life, and the experience is awesome!)

After the later arrivals had their first glass of punch, dinner was served, buffet style around 11:30.

MENU;

Potato skins
Ginger chicken wings
Spinach mushroom salad
Pasta lox salad

Subway played Feliz Navidad, and other activist songs, and democat folk and rock. Prolly my favorite song of the evening?

Sung by democat ~~

The Dutchman's not the kind of man
To keep his thumb jammed in the dam
That holds his dreams in
But that's a secret only Margaret knows



When Amsterdam is golden in the morning
Margaret brings him breakfast
She believes him
He thinks the tulips bloom beneath the snow
He's mad as he can be but Margaret only sees that sometimes
Sometimes she sees her unborn children in his eyes



(chorus)
Let us go to the banks of the ocean
Where the walls rise above the Zuiderzee
Long ago, I used to be a young man
And dear Margaret remembers that for me



The Dutchman still wears wooden shoes
His cap and coat are patched with love
That Margaret sewed in
Sometimes he thinks he's still in Rotterdam
He watches tugboats down canals
And calls out to them when he thinks he knows the Captain
'till Margaret comes to take him home again
Through unforgiving streets
That trip him though she holds his arm
Sometimes he thinks that he's alone and calls her name



(chorus)



The windmills whirl the winter in
She winds his muffler tighter,
They sit in the kitchen
Some tea with whiskey keeps away the dew
He sees her for a moment, calls her name
She makes the bed up humming some old love song
She learned it when the tune was very new
He hums a line or two, they hum together in the night
The Dutchman falls asleep and Margaret blows the candle out.


(chorus)

( http://www.artistsofnote.com/michael/lyrics/dutchman.shtml )


This song is just gorgeous, and had a couple of us in tears.

Conversation, of course, after catching up with each other's lives, was mostly political: a true LIBLAB gathering, lol! Gathered in one room in the East Village were: a school teacher, an actor, a dollmaker, an anthropologist, a street musician and a folk singer. And every man Jack bright, informed, and politically astute.

At one point, I looked around and was just overwhelmed to the core of my soul by the level of intelligence, creativity, dedication, energy, and love in the room. It speaks volumes to the worth of Howard Dean that he has gathered such people together in support of him and his idears.

Subway was the first to leave at about 1:30, the others a little after two.

The hosts did a quick clean up, and then just sat back and traded favorite moments of the evening. Turned in at three thirty, tired and content.

A great ending for a tough year.

Amen.

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