The Lovely wife and I throw two big parties a year. The first is our annual Derby Bash for the Kentucky Derby. This party seems to grow every year and the guest list gets bigger. We usually invite 50-60 people to it. Usually thirty-forty make it. Because we're on the West Coast, the race usually is run a couple hours after the party starts, We have a betting pool. So the first couple of hours people come and survey the horses,read the tout sheet (culled from the papers and internet), and place their bets on their favourite horse.
Food comes out early and stays out all afternoon...usually BBQ chicken, biscuits, cold slaw, cheese grits, devilled eggs, a relish tray, and The Lovely Wife's legendary and coveted bourbon balls, which are very labour-intensive and which she swears she'll never make again and each year does, caving in to public demand. Another friend makes Derby Pie and the last few years we have been supplying the fixings for Mint Juleps.
There are televisions both inside the house and outside on the deck which stay tuned to the prelimmary races and then zero in on the Derby coverage and race. We all gather around the tube and sing My Old Kentucky Home at the appropriate time. We used to pass out lyric sheets but now the words are usually captioned on the TV.
After the race is over, the party really gets in high gear. At the core of this festivity is a contigent of KY. friends who understand what all the hoo-ha is about with the Derby. But all our other friends are sort of mystified and charmed by this yearly ritual and wouldn't miss the party for anything.
The party usually starts at one and winds up at around eleven o' clock when the last die-hard stragglers drift out. Sometimes those wee hours are the most fun when the group gets small enough to savour and The Lovely Wife and I can stop playing host. The conversation gets very wicked and funny.
The other yearly party is our annual Holiday party usually given in the first weeks of December before everyone starts departing for the holidays.
Though given inside, this one is also usually for the same sixty or so people and usually thirty-forty people show up. And, like the Derby party, this one is an open house...so people seem to come in shifts and its always a manageable number.
This used to be an annual tree-trimming party, but ever since we got a wrought-iron designer tree, we prefer to decorate it ourselves. Also people just kept bringing us ornaments, many of which we can't or don't want to use. Still they do bring presents (though this is not a requirement nor sought) and the base of the tree is always piled high with gifts after the party.
The fare is usually a ham and turkey that my Mother sends us each Christmas, filled out with salad and other delicious side dishes (the well-supplied bowls of cashews always seem to be a hit). Like the Derby, the main drink supplied is champagne, but there is also a variety of red and white non-bubbly wines, bottled water (sparkling and still), sparkling cider, egg nog, and soft drinks (the ubiquitious Diet Coke for BK, of course)
Like the Derby, this party, starting around three or four (just when it gets dark enough for the tree lights to have an effect), goes to the wee hours with the hardcore cronies sitting by the fire, chatting and stuffing themselves on left-overs, chocolate, and the dregs of champagne.
The really great thing over the years is to watch how all our friends have gotten to know each other and interact over the years. There's rarely anyone sitting like a lump in the corner. Of course, it seems natural that the people one likes will usually like each other. And there have been some truly surreal memories. Such as Harlan Ellison jitterbugging with June Wilkinson to an old 45rpm, Miss Petunia in my kitchen (This is even more wonderful when you realize that the top of Harlan's head comes level to Ms. Wilkinson most ample assets.)
The Lovely Wife and I have also thrown fifty-year b'day parties for each other which were well-attended by the usual suspects.
For a period in the nineties, we used to have a once a month salon on a Sunday afternoon. Anyone among our circle who wanted could show up. We usually had a vat of chili on the stove and snacks. There was a table full of games for those who wanted to play them, there was always a jig-saw puzzle in play. Several friends would sing and play piano. Folks could just sit out on the back balcony and read a book, if they wanted. Again, it was open house and people came and went like the Grand Hotel. But we usually had a dozen or so people each month.
