Monday, December 31, 2007

Party Like It's 1979

Tonight I will be staying in, admiring James Spader's ...erm... performance in Boston Legal and going to bed at 10.00, but for those who insist on 'going out' and 'having a good time' and all that, I give you this to get you in the mood for the inevitable Soirée of Horror ahead of you:

Dan Hartman - Relight My Fire (mp3)

Accept no substitutes. That Loleatta Holloway could totally have Lulu in a fight any day of the week.

Happy New Year!


Jayne said...

Hah! That's exactly what I'm doing tonight. Season 3. Lurve the Boston Legal. Alan Shore is the lawyer I want if I ever get arrested. I may also have a small glass of sherry. Or possibly a large glass of vodka. Cheers.

PS - I have been invited to a couple of parties (lest you think I'm Billy NoMates) but have told each one I'm going to the other. Good trick I can heartily recommend to anyone feeling antisocial.

Betty said...

Yeah, I always tend to party like it's 1979, so I'll be donning the footless tights and one of those enormous t-shirts that tie in a knot at the front when I attend tonight's private do in The Rose & Crown, Bexleyheath. Instant Replay!

Happy New Year to you and yours, P.

patroclus said...

Jayne: Boston Legal is the new going out - official. Cheers!

Betty: It's time to confess that on New Year's Eve 1979 I probably went to bed at 7pm clutching the Illustrated Children's Bible that I had actually asked for as a Christmas present. Oh yes, no one (apart from Jayne, of course) parties harder than I did then, or than I do now. Happy New Year to you and Geoff too.

Sylvia said...

Well, I will be in South London having dinner with friends whilst keeping tabs on what our children are doing. This means, of course, that I will NOT be drinking as I'll probably have to respond to an emergency call from the Southbank at about 4 am. This time I definitely WILL be in my pyjamas and will have Bat out of Hell on full blast all the way home.

Our host's daughters will have already found his copy of McGonnegal so he won't be able to read us the Tay Bridge Disaster AGAIN.....

Happy New Year!

cello said...

You know how hideously cheerful I am, P. So New Year's Eve muct be pretty bad to make me refuse all invitations to go out and 'party'. I will be joining Mr C in his ferocious misanthropy, watching some nonsense on the telly while getting ever so slightly squiffy on Pinot Noir.

I think it's about endings. Can't bear 'em. Always pretend to go to the loo at events and then sneak off so I don't have to do big farewells. And I will never be able to reire because I'd have to do some sort of valedictory speech.

Tomorrow I will be as right as rain and back to my annoying chirpy self. See you both in 2008metaphorically and, I very much hope, literally too.

Marsha said...

Ooh, James Spader! I came over all unnecessary while watching "Sex, Lies and Videotape".
Also staying in. Also wishing you and the lovely Mr BC a very happy New Year.

P.S Please don't stop blogging...ever!

patroclus said...

Sylvia: I scoured the news for stories about bepyjamaed women disturbing the peace in South London at 4.15am yesterday morning, but none were forthcoming, so I hope your New Year was untroubled by emergency callouts.

Cello: I completely agree; endings and goodbyes are rubbish. If you ever retire (the gods of television advertising forfend, and all that), you should do what I did when I left [insert name of large PR agency here] and sneak off down the back stairs before anyone notices a thing. Hope to see you soon - in the meantime, could you possibly email me your home address?

Marsha: James Spader is the new going out - official. I think Sex, Lies and Videotape is due a re-watch, as I haven't seen it since my first term at university, which was about four thousand years ago. Happy New Year!

Sylvia said...

Alas, P - I was there! No pyjamas because I got the call before I could get into bed! So I was suitably clothed when I arrived at the designated meeting point outside the Imperial War Museum at 2.30am. Luckily my sneaky glass of champagne had been absorbed by nut roast and saffron rice and a box of chocolates.

My CD was drowned out by the sound of Sanctimonious Teenager from the back of the car. In my day, no-one dared communicate with the driver and we sat listening to radio 2 all the way home.

It was incredible - or maybe I don't get out much - but South London was full of traffic and revellers making their unsteady way home. Clapham North was the place to be judging by the fancy dress costumes, and the guys and dolls party was just breaking up at the Bedford in Balham as we wafted past.

Still, the teenagers did get a good view of the fireworks, but I got the distinct feeling that going up to central London on NYE was something they had very firmly ticked off their list.