The Evolution and Death of a Party Animal

The Evolution and Death of a Party Animal

Living in New York is like banging your head against the wall. It feels so good when you stop. That’s probably why I never knew anyone who left New York who ever went back.

I grew up in Brooklyn (born there and throughout my teens) and on Long Island (as an adult), went to school at Brooklyn College and after becoming a dentist, practiced on Long Island for 43 years. So, I knew a lot of NY people. Many of them moved away and none of them ever returned – glad they were away because almost anywhere is better than New York and it did not matter under whose administration the city was run.

I retired south (Wilmington NC) but I am sure the others (from Boston, Chicago, Detroit) tell the same stories. Outside those city limits, the word crowded has an entirely different meaning and traffic jam can occur if a single traffic light turned red. Waiting on (or in) line reflects a different time frame than one experiences in those large – often dangerous – cities and a breath of fresh air here in the south really means fresh air.

Once set on my path of adulthood – meaning I was graduated from dental school and no longer had mandatory courses to take and no teacher to whom I had to prove my worthiness – as far as I can remember, I still had not grown up. I was formally educated, skilled technically as a dentist, healthy as a 26-year-old American male should be, fairly good-looking and not yet bald. But, it seemed as though I was standing above the earth and, looking down, saw a land that beckoned, a place to which I had access but knew no one there and everyone seemed to know everyone else.

There was a party going on and I was not invited; nor was I told not to come. I was not on the guest list; nor was I on the Do Not Admit list. I could enter, eat the food and drink the beverages, sit wherever I wanted to sit and, if I had the courage, could speak to whomever I wanted with the feeling that they may respond friendly-like but not necessarily with engagement.

And maybe I was wrong and all I needed to do was begin a conversation; as innocent as that. It was like trying to pick up a girl. I needed that pick-up line, that smart verbiage that would capture attention; that question to ask without sounding stupid myself or condescending or off-putting or any of the other ways my remark could be taken and make me feel as though I should leave the party and go elsewhere to try anew to gain acceptance as someone from outside the arena.

The food section in the supermarket was always a good place to overcome shyness. Excuse me but how does one prepare this? followed by nice shoes (because females, I was told once upon a time, have this thing about footwear). These remarks the other way around did not seem as if this approach would work as well.

Just a short way into the supermarket conversation, I would tell that I wrote a cookbook – even though there are so many voids in my cooking knowledge. This is part of my research to fill in those blank areas.

Stepping into a party is different. All of the other guys are so cool-looking and have that gift of gab that seems to attract and hold the attention of women. They dress cool, comb their hair cool, wear cool jewelry and drink cool drinks. I think that way because party guys are always in a conversation with a girl and I am sure (without any evidence) that they knew each other from before the party or clicked here at the party and were now in a good back-and-forth conversation that I dared not try to become part of and into which insinuate myself. That, I believe, would be obnoxious as opposed to neighborly and partylike.

On the other hand, isn’t that what parties are for, to meet people, talk to others, make conversation, inject your viewpoints and observations about life and verbally give as well as take?

Maybe it’s my voice; its timber or cadence. When I took an acting class after school was over, the teacher said my voice was nasal. That was a harsh damper to what I thought was a fun path I could travel if only as a hobby. It was also how I heard myself speak from then on and thought everyone within earshot cringed at the sounds I made in conversation. No matter what I said – no matter how brilliant or humorous – it would make me feel as I felt when I dated in high school, had no car and traveled by bus.

One cannot be cool on a bus. Whenever I spoke, the shaking of the bus always seemed to make my voice quiver – or so I thought. For that reason – and others – I did not date except for walking dates.

The few times I went to a bar (I don’t drink) I looked around and saw no place for me and soon was walking out; except for the time I tried to pass myself off as a guy name Callahan Montgomery but my Brooklyn demeanor and face could not pull it off. The draw of the challenge made me do it – that one and only time.

I had heard that no one used their own name initially and always lied about themselves (initially) so I thought such allowances also applied to me but quickly told myself that was not true and I was not one of the crowd. If only I had the gumption to act regardless of my nasalness, I could have been anyone and anything I wanted to be at parties and bars. I could have temporarily ditched the doctor and sauntered up to a lady and engage her in my fantasy. She wouldn’t know and then, after bonding sufficiently, I’d tell her the truth and why I did it that way and she would either turn and walk away thinking I was dangerous or laugh with me at my attempts to overcome my shyness. By then, the ice would have been broken and the food would taste better and the drinks more fun – though still having that awful alcohol taste.

Go know about the future. What I do believe was that there was a guardian angel watching over me and redirecting my missteps, putting me back on the path the Fates designed for me. I must have kept him busy.

Ultimately, I met and married (now going on 43 years) an incredible woman who few who walk the planet can compare. I still do not drink (though 43 years of marriage could have changed that), have my rantings and ravings met with laughter or eye-rolling and have been taught how to be a person and understand others.

It is quite a party!