New Years Eve 1998
courtesy of PWL*
Lashing rain, driven cold along flooded country lanes. Yet as despite, the Woods Party _will_ happen. Oh, a smallish thing, a private birthday affair, perhaps fifty people… keen cognoscenti ravers nearly all: must have been, to outface the elements with shrug of variously-clad shoulders. Most were sensible: brought warm wrappings to discard later. In relative warmth of the roofed-over BBQ area, with roaring red-hearted
Oh, and one newcomer, family-friend daughter, mid-twenties; been to a wretched club or two, but never to what we call a Real Party. Heh. So we all think this will be a good introduction to that Wondrous Phenom-mena. We almost persuaded her Mother to attend as well, but this has been deferred to an easier and drier indoors-location that will happen soon enough.
Just around midnight. Hraerken! Is that the revving of Japanese car engines, or merely the two portable generators taking over the mains supply? Yes. Though one generator could not be started, and I was
despatched to find a plug spanner. Not needed when I arrived back, having carried an enormous and very heavy van-toolkit up the hill from carpark: the genny just needed smiling at some more, and some very enthusiastic cord-pulling. Happy to oblige, and was easier than taking the beloved machine apart. Hrak! (:>)
DJ sets were wonderful. Choice of music superb. Company beautiful. What more can I add? When it all really happens, ’tis beyond my descriptive power: you’ve either been there, once or more, or the experience is yet in your hoped-for future. From our first-timer, “I love you all.” And was reciprocated; the All looked after her, in welcome to the night-dancer family. For this is the spirit of these kinda parties. See someone looking cold, lend them your coat and show them to the fire. Give a hug too, and know that you will get your garment back. Show strangers where the water tap is located. But none are really strangers at the Rave: that odd sense of intuition prevails. Do unto others. Eh, yes! I got hugged quite a few times too: my thanks to the lovely creatures who sensed that I would simply enjoy, and who shared a mischievously-wicked grin. Some I’ve known for aeons, some I only think I have known for that long… and most of those will grin at me again, in recognition on some other dancefloor. Sweet gesture of the night: a lass came up to me with hands secretively cupped around —nothing. Gave that into my hands, and quoth, “This is the World. For you.” So I passed it on to others, being sure I pointed out who had the lovely idea.
Ah, and the dancing! Plenty of very full-on upbeat stuff; needed to keep warm in the small-hours almost-frost. Some went home at that point, with weary-cheery waves. I admit I could not keep up myself, and went for a couple of hours kip in warm sleeping bag in chilly van. Woke feeling better in broad daylight, went back in time for a little more dancing. A hard-core of the dance-dedicated were still at it. Then last set over, and all those remaining set to helping out the packing away of all the party-paraphernalia. Lights and wires and amplifiers, bass-bins, all the drapes that were hung from beams. And the tidying of the site too, not merely so that others would not blame “ravers” for leaving a mess, but that it just felt right: in respect for the place wherein we had such fun.
Thanks also to Nick from this ng, who drove a fair way to attend. Bringing Dee and another of the cognoscenti, also not met before (sorry, name-forgot already.) Hope you can confirm what a wicked Hallowe’en-do it was!
pwl (©2002 pwl – All rights reserved)