I’m Too Old to Dance So Hard

The birthday party of the century for Michelle Berrey recreated all that is Gatsby in a big way. We had a mansion, filled with arms full of glorious white flowers every where you turned. Beautiful people decked to the nines greeted each other on the terrace as cocktails flowed freely and young men glided past offering trays of nibbles. The night started in such a serene and sophisticated way.   

Then, like the twenties themselves things ratcheted up. The doors to the garden room opened presenting the guests with a beautiful buffet. We got our food and made our way to a sofa in a far off room to enjoy our dinner. Snuggled on the pillows with the birthday girl it was still an intimate party. But in the larger room, men dressed in tuxes and tails, threw dice at the craps table and pushed their chips forward on each subsequent hand of black jack. The gin was flowing freely and the flappers were coming into full bloom.

A young man in top hat rang a bell announcing the opening of the dance hall and all the guests followed the petite blond female trumpeter through the anti room with twelve foot tall flower arrangements with white hydrangea pompoms and ostrich plumes. Down the winding stone stairs the guests entered the ball room whose ceiling was a sea of white bubble like balloons.  
The dance floor itself boor the monogramed logo of the birthday girl just in front of the stage where the twelve piece band held court. Richard, our host and beloved husband of the birthday girl, gave a sweet speech commemorating Michelle’s birthday and she blew out the candles on her cake. Then all hell let loose.

The band began to play and we joined Richard and Michelle on the dance floor. It was flapper heaven. The gin was cold, but the music was hot. The band never stopped for three hours and neither did we. Save for one foray outside to try and cool off for a moment, Russ and I stayed on the dance floor the whole night.  

If our friend had gone to the trouble to throw this most beautiful party we owed it to him to dance all night. I stayed until the time the band stopped playing. It was very late for me. But like Cinderella, I had to skip the after party to get to my bed and write my blog before the clock struck midnight.
This morning our old bones got out of bed in time to go the the after party brunch, kiss our hosts goodbye and drive home. Exhausted I desperately needed a nap, but somehow was the only one in my house not to get one. Parts of me still hurt from shaking so much last night. I’ll crash early here, but still with the moving pictures in my head of my time at Gatsby Live. Thanks Richard, it was the best party ever. And Happy Birthday again to Michelle. Love you both.

One Comment on “I’m Too Old to Dance So Hard”

  1. Hannah says:

    “I don’t know, but I’ve been told, if you keep on dancing you’ll never grow old!” Where are we going dancing next weekend?? 😍

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