Angel In a Red Dress
Back in the late seventies, just out of high school, anything was an excuse for a house party. Of course, none of us had houses, but our parents did. The best house for a party at this time was at my friend Woody’s parent’s house.
Nice house, big yard, and best of all, a built-in pool.
Turns out, the pool would play a big part in our collective memories.
One summer my friends and I decided we would have a twenty-four-hour drinking contest (and they say kids don’t have ambition).
Not sure what prompted this (maybe it was an Olympic year), but seemed like a good idea at the time.
The next few hours we picked up supplies, and by supplies I mean hamburgers, hot dogs, rolls and lots and lots of beer.
Next, we split up into teams of two, but don’t remember who matched with whom. Nor do I remember how many people were at the party. Once word got out, a lot of people showed up (but not in the contest), especially on the tail end of the twenty-four-hours, when we were not exactly at our best.
The backyard was set for the contest. A grill, lawn chairs, coolers full of beer and food, along with a turntable and albums stacked on a table on the edge of the patio (we’ll get back to that as well).
We started the contest, and one thing to remember in a twenty-four-hour drinking contest is to pace yourself, which is a great idea.
Did I mention this was a twenty-four-hour drinking contest?
Apparently, in a twenty-four-hour drinking contests, great ideas die on the vine.
The first twelve hours was like a normal (at least for us) night of drinking. A lot of stories, laughter, insults, music.
The difference?
On this occasion you slept where you fell (inside or outside the house). Lawn chairs, couches, floor space all filled with passed out contestants and friends.
Although, one friend who wanted to be safe and rode his bicycle to the party since he knew he would be drinking, it didn’t turn out so well. Even with the best of intention, he was stopped by the police on his ride home that night. He was issued a ticket, just not sure for what specifically (can you get a DUI on a bicycle?) I don’t know.
Anyway, back to the party.
Normally, on the morning after heavy drinking, you had several hours to recoup.
Not in this case.
In this case, we woke to a scorecard of beer cans and bottles stacked in different areas of the yard to denote which team was winning (won’t give who won just yet).
We had twelve more hours to cross the finish line so it was beers for breakfast. However, it was more than just hair-of-the-dog to cure our hangovers, it was the whole damn mutt.
It was on the back end of this contest when things got interesting, and much more memorable.
Music is an important part of any party. Before CDs and streaming, their were 8-Tracks, cassettes, and albums. Music never sounded better then it did on vinyl, even with the pops and hisses.
During a twenty-four hour drinking contest mistakes will be made, that is a given.
No one in particular was in charge of the music, so each of us were guilty as to what happened next. As each album ended, replaced by the next, the vinyl was not returned to the record jacket. Instead, they were placed, one upon the next, stacked like black pancakes on a plate.
A pile of albums does not last long under a blazing August sun. Unnoticed by all (remember, the back-end of twenty-four-hours of drinking) the individual vinyl albums soon melded into one large lump of plastic.
Many albums were lost that day, but not all. Our selection of songs were greatly reduced, but we drank on.
Fortunately, Boston’s first album survived the solar slaughter of our vinyl, so the following was able to happen by the pool.
Not sure how, why, or where but for some reason, in our youth, Air Guitar became a big thing to do.
For those not older than dirt, Air Guitar was when you played an invisible guitar along with a song.
On this day, however, my friend Scott did not play Air Guitar by the pool to Boston’s song More Than a Feeling.
He played Air Drums.
And, he was flawless.
I was in the pool when Scott stepped up on the diving board, and did and incredible Air Drum of the song, beat for beat, for the entire song, like he was the drummer for Boston.
Scott passed away a few years ago. Ever since then, whenever I hear More Than A Feeling on the radio I always say, “Hello, Scott...”
But the best was yet to come.
At some point, before the sun set, Scott’s girlfriend, Terri, showed up at Woody’s house. Not sure if she had plans later that night, she was dressed more for a night club than the tail end of a twenty-four-hour drinking binge.
Terri show up in a cotton red dress.
As I stated before, in a twenty-four-hour drinking contests mistakes will be mad (or maybe this wasn’t a mistake).
As she mingled among the crowd by the pool, near the spot where her boyfriend played a perfect set of Air Drums earlier that day, our friend Pinhead stepped behind Terri, and pushed her into the pool.
It was the splash heard round the world (at least heard round the backyard).
Everyone stopped, and turned toward the pool. Once Terri got over the shock of what Pinhead (real name John) did to her, she swam toward the ladder and climbed out of the pool.
Think Phoebe Cates and the pool scene from Fast Times at Ridgemont High, but instead of a red bikini Terri rose from the pool in a red dress that clung to her body as a second skin.
To this day, any man, woman, or child in that backyard (thankfully, no children were present) remembers that moment Terri climbed out of the pool.
In fact, mention red dress in any context, and my mind will take me back to the seventies, that summer, that party, my friends, and a whole lifetime still ahead of us.
Thanks, Terri (or thanks, Pinhead) for creating a memory that lasted a lifetime.
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Side Note: Earlier I wrote that I would reveal which team won the contest. Truth to told, I don’t remember, after all it was a twenty-four-hour drinking contest (can you blame me for not remembering?).
