The reception given by the Belgian Charge de Affaires at the Twin Towers was as superb as it usually is – particularly as there was no evidence of any politicos around as is generally the case at these embassy do’s. The other outstanding feature was the food! A superb array of hors d’oevrs, as well as authentic Belgian fare for dinner was laid out for the guests. The invitees were equally eclectic and Pierre and Saskia were the perfect hosts. However, Nahorp, his lovely Gowers, the Dancer and I had to leave earlier than we otherwise would have, as we had to make it over to the Deeb. 

It was party time at the Deeb, with a sterling representation of the Burgher community in full force for St Labreu’s birthday. A ‘seventies’ theme had all the bell-bottoms, love-beads and other assorted accoutrements associated with that era, unearthed and even long-haired wigs were sported by the some of the aging hippies. And the straight folk tried their best to cope. The music also identified with the era – only the band sucked! The rain was a spoiler of sorts, as the outdoor terrace was not conducive to sitting outside, but that was a minor impediment as the force was buzzing with good vibes prevailing and a great time was had by all. 

Dat be a reel good time you be havin yoself las night, ma maaan. I be watching you, dancing like a dervish wit yo brew in hand wit Zaney an wit Gowers. An who be dat chick dat grab you an jump around like she be tryin to get it on? I be checkin out ol Nahorp’s spresshun at dat move – clearer dan a tousan words maaan! An did yo check out Bastin wit his date Aina? Good for dat super-cool brodder – he be too good to be left to hisself – a reel waste. Dat girl Windimere don know what she be letting go of – if she reely be letting go, dat is! An she better hope dat her move don land her on her pretty lil ol butt – “don know whatchu got til it’s gone”, as Joanie Mitchell sing.

I keep listening to Java as I don’t remember much of the little asides that were happening and he is bound to have a few juicy tit-bits that flew by me as the night went on.

Jeronimo be lookin groovy in dat wig and dose shades maan, but I feel for our fren, as he could’n get into his music wit dat sorry-ass band tryin to back him. St Labreu also do a blues number on lead geetar an his vocals ain’t all dat bad for a dude dat not be doin dis as a regular gig. Krid an Ninna, Estev, da tall an willowy Tappy, Matti an her ol fren Minni Mala, who be wit her Junan, Drew an Monisse, crazy honky Radn, Jaru, Libby, Dalstein – all be partying heavy wit Cinimod capturin illusions for later. An his lady Zaney – she be animated las nite maan, she be in da groove – lovin dose ol 70’s tunes and beltin out dose lyrics, an ah see you be joinin her too. An later, ol Cini be sittin dere fallin asleep – he be sooo relaxed!  

Java stops for a breather and lights up. I’m still a bit woozy from the night before and get some music on to help with the meltdown. I pick up one of my old discs – MJQ collaborating with Laurindo Almeida, and One Note Samba, Concierto de Araanjuez and Bach’s Fuge in A Minor are among the numbers in it. The sound is unbelievably mellow and even Java is silent as the strains Almeida’s guitar leads the progression on the samba.

It was a good night!
 

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