Fun With Huge Bonfires On A Rainy Night During Foliage Season

Steam, an otherworldly glow and ghostly
people at a bonfire in Shrewsbury, Vermont last night. 

Last night, I was at a huge party at my sister Laurie's house, and her partner Bennie, in rural Shrewsbury, Vermont.

As you read down, you'll get an explanation of the ghostly photos in this post. Some explanation is in order.

Laurie's parties tend to be huge affairs that go late into the night. There's plenty of music, food, and LOTS of booze.

(It's OK, there's also lots of designated drivers, or people who just crash on couches for the night.)

The party was a huge hit, despite the fact it rained torrentially through most of the event.

We huddled under tents with good buddies like Dr. McGillicuddy, Dr. Jagermeister,  and some home grown concoctions.  Although, to be honest, at my age I wasn't able to handle much beyond some nice Vermont microbrew.

A bonfire on a rainy night in Shrewsbury, Vermont.  

There were two guys, one a singer and guitarist, the other, a handsome young man playing spoons incredibly expertly.

The pair played mostly country standards, and were surprisingly talented and engaging.

There was a lot of dancing, but I don't think anybody there would be a finalist on "So You Think You Can Dance." 

Especially not the woman in the pink sweater and the clear garbage bag she was using as a raincoat. She was drunk enough to kind of look like those blow up signs and figures that wave wildly in front of used car lots.

I did think the big huge burly guy wearing the hard hat while dancing might have been the smartest person at the party.

People were especially enthusiastic when the two guys played Garth Brook's "Friends in Low Places." It was that kind of party. In other words, raucus, not exactly fancy, but very, very, very fun.

Sparks from a nighttime bonfire rise
up into fall foliage overhead on a rainy
Saturday night in Shrewsbury, Vermont.  

Another odd highlight was when the two guys played that song from the early 1960s about a teenage couple who gets in a car crash and the girl dies.

It's called "Oh Where Can My Baby Be." It's totally cheesy, which is why the guys played the song

It was hilariously odd to see people dancing with drunken joy to a stupid, melodramatic song about a car crash. You had to be there, though, to get the full effect.

A centerpiece of Laurie and Bennie parties is usually an immense bonfire. Such was the case last night, despite the rain soaking everything so thoroughly it was hard to get a fire going at first.

But it did get going.

I loved the ghostly images it caused with the flames spiking up into the rain pouring down, the smoke, the sparks, the glow of the fire on the fall foliage, the steam from the fire's heat hitting everything wet.

Of course, it was hard to take photos of this with an iPhone in the rain after a few beers, but I tried. They're amateurish, but I got a few otherworldly images that I kind of like in a weird sort of way.

So they're in this post. As always, click on any image you're interested in to get a bigger, better look.

How the B-52s Use Insanity to Maintain My Sanity (And Other People's Sanity)

I'm in Rutland, Vermont this weekend, visiting family.

Last evening, my sister Lynn, my brother in law David and I were introducing my husband, Jeff to the world of the B-52s. Jeff is familiar with the band, of course, but didn't fully grasp until last night how much Lynn, David and I embrace, love, live the B-52s.

The wonderful B-52s

The beehive hairdos! The deliberately off key, deadpan deliver of the vocals! The absolutely party out of control insanity in their lyrics

Those lyrics. We especially love those insane lines from their songs. Especially from some of their early hits. Like from "Planet Claire:"

"She came from Planet Claire
I knew she came from there.
She drove a Plymouth Satellite
Faster than the speed of ight
Planet Claire has pink air
All the trees are red
No one ever dies there
No one has a head."

Jeff pointed out, as we tortured him with one B-52s song after another,  that the music in B-52s songs is much like that of bad 1960s B-movies.  Jeff nailed it exactly. That's part of the appeal of the B-52s.

Jeff joked that had he known I was this into the B-52s, he'd never have married me. "What did I get myself into,?" he asked.

As I said, Jeff was just kidding. He knows that I get my kicks out of goofy things, sounds, music, people, things. And he realizes in some weird way that all this is healthy.

If everyone introduced more irreverance to their lives, more silliness, more very bizarre but very fun party music, a goofy party side to their lives, the world would be much better.

Maybe if North Korea's "Dear" Leader, Kim Jun Un listened to the B-52s "Rock Lobster," he wouldn't be threatening war so much. If Congress had an each-morning ritual of dancing to "Love Shack" they'd more readily solve our budgetary problems.

 If the pro and anti-gun lobbied would only listen to "Quiche Lorraine" that insanely wonderful B-52s song about a dog dyed dark green wearing designer jeans with appliques on them, they wouldn't argue so much.

And let's hope the drug cartels just go live in their own Private Idaho and live underground like a wild potato.

For your enjoyment, I give you some insanity to maintain your sanity: The video to "Rock Lobster"

Here comes a bikini whale!!!! AAAYYEEEE!!!!!!!!