Are You Living It?

The snow is pretty big here on Colorado’s Western Slope–bigger than it’s been in a long time–so it goes without saying that on a Saturday without a cloud anywhere, the order of the day was laying down tracks.  Backcountry, Purg, skate skiing, snowshoe-ing, sledding on an orange piece of plastic–whatever your flavor, yesterday was the day.

But this isn’t another post about powder and big sky.  This is a short tribute to how great hanging at a friend’s house afterwards can be.  No overpriced drinks, no surly waiters, and no cover charges.  Just great food, tall tales, and the warmth of your crew of pals.

Here are a few shots of the revelry.

Christina and Lauren cooked up Thai chicken, followed by bananas foster for everyone (the flambe involved about three gallons of Bacardi 151, not all of which burned off… this may account for some of the pictures down the list):

Sobriety degradation meter: 0

Dinner wrapped up and several homebodies announced their imminent departures.  Hugs were distributed and wishes of safe travels bestowed.  Those of us who remained began to plan the rest of the night’s festivities.

Who needs to go out when you’ve got a stereo, an iPod, and zero inhibitions?  We decided to crank the music, dim the lights, and make a spectacle of ourselves to the neighbors.  Here’s a pic of Zach and Anne working it.  Throughout the night Zach showed off a lot of moves, including “the sprinkler,” “dice,” “the lawnmower,” and of course, “the overbite.”  This one is called “Slowhand”:

Sobriety degradation meter: 2

Things escalated quickly.  Soon the music was thumping in our heads and one by one we threw caution to the wind.  Here we are, each of us a little closer to the evening’s zenith of fun.  (Note: in the background Zach is teaching Anne the “Master of Puppets”)

Sobriety degradation meter:  5

You know when you’re having a great time on a night like this, you have this sense of progression–movement towards the pinnacle of celebration.  What will it be?  But then you keep partying, and things get blurrier.  The laughs start to run together.  The gin flows.  The music keeps thumping.   In time, the dance moves start to lose their zest.  Am I getting tired, you ask yourself.

That’s usually when someone falls down or spills a drink, or unexpectedly takes off their clothes.  The next day it will seem silly and even absurd, but at the time it happens that one thing will stand out as the most hilarious thing you’ve ever seen in your life.  For us, it was Shawn’s announcement that he would run from the kitchen, slide on his knees, and launch himself from the kitchen level onto the dance floor.

We grew anxious as he prepared himself to tempt fate.  The women begged him to think of his safety.  The men wagered on whether he would break Christina’s coffee table.  We waited, biting our nails.  Shawn backed up to the far counter.  We all inhaled.  He began to sprint,  screaming, “Live Your Passion!” as he hurtled toward us.

But, alas, just as the mythical Icarus’s wings were stripped of him, so was Shawn forced to Live his Passion on the floor.  Sobriety degradation meter:  11

The party wound down.  I was wearing someone else’s clothes.  Shawn was dancing with a cactus.  It was weird and we all want to forget that part.  My wife Laurel and Zach argued bitterly over someone else’s coat.  Christina disappeared with the bananas foster.  It was over.  Time to walk home.

But man, what a great time.

By: James Schaffer