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Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name� Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name�So last night was premiere night for Thursday night TV. Normally this would make no difference in my life since I've turned my TV on a grand total of 10 times in the 14 months that I've lived by myself. I'm not much of a TV watcher, I read instead both by preference and by habit. We didn't have a TV for a good portion of my youth and we didn't get cable until right before I moved out so I really didn't get the bug (unlike my brother). It also may be because I get about a channel and a half, and to get the one channel I have to perch on the end of my coffee table and lean forward if I want to get both picture and sound at the same time. A tradition has grown in the past year with my friends: Thursday night TV at the Party House. It's the one night every week when we know we will see most of our friends in one place. It's a way to connect in the absence of Wammick and not lose touch with those at the other end of the social group. There are the party house residents: Princess, Kristus, Gerg and Brat. Those who are almost guaranteed to be there: Smacked, Kristian (and Droolia), myself and Bear, Chnanners, Halo, Dramaqueen, Bbb and the occasional visit from Africa. And those that are missing this year: Foreman , Smelly (and Roscoe by default), Plaid and Lawn. Guest appearances are always encouraged. We all pile on the couches, cuddling and squirming to get comfortable while still being able to see that precious motion-filled square. If you emerge from the puppy-pile on the couch, even just to get a drink, your seat is fair game for the people lying on the floor. The drill is almost always the same: be quiet for the show (excepting laugher, shrieks at shocking news, drooling at the hot geeks) and catch up on our friend's lives during the commercials. The line-up was originally Friends and Will & Grace but has expanded to include ER, CSI, and others. The rules are simple: if someone new arrives everyone must scream their name with great enthusiasm, if you are phoning the party house, do it during a commercial and you must hug everyone at least once before you leave. If you miss a week, you are always welcome the next week. There are inevitable tensions in a group that large. The ones who are primarily there to watch the show vs. the ones who are there for the company. The broken friendship that shares a car ride home. The hypocrite shushers that talk too loudly for the others to hear the show. The couple that broke up at the end of last season, now learning to share their friends. The 'singles couch', resenting the couplyness of the couples. The couples resenting that resentment. The people that live there and have their home invaded all the time, whether they want to or not. Yet all of these people, with all of these issues, keep on coming together every Thursday to get something that they need. Perhaps a sense of continuity since we have moved on from the musical basis of our friendships. Perhaps simply touch: a friend to lean on, a hand to hold, and the sense of connection that touch gives us. Perhaps it's that rush of warmth when you come in the door and everyone shouts your name like you're the most exciting person in the world. I'm not exactly sure what it is that I need, but I know that I'll keep going back to the party house every Thursday night for as long as I can.
2003-09-26 || 11:45 a.m. |
