Some, of course, started dancing at a minute past midnight last Monday. Clubs, finally allowed to open their doors after nearly a year and a half, generally went for it, with predictable ‘hot takes’ (some whinyarsed puritanical scolding, some handwringing-but-broadly-sympathetic, some wholly enthusiastic) all over the place. This aging hedonist, with a week of early mornings ahead, waited until Saturday before going out-out.
Obviously I have not been cut off from all human interaction since the Before Times, as regular readers will know: there have been some picnics and some pub trips and, of course, the determination of the London Alternative Market crew to keep the lights on has meant a reasonable amount of bookselling events over the past months. But a party? A real, proper party, with smacked arses and gossip and incipient flirtation and music? I’d almost forgotten what one of those felt like.
I had a wonderful time: well worth the tiresome long night bus journey home – though a part of me even relished the night bus aspect as it had been such a long, long time since I sat there nodding in the dark, trying to stay awake and wanting a wee. Social media this Monday was full of rhapsodizing from
various sources: gigs, festivals, clubs and other parties had been happening for many of us. Interestingly, some of those who had previously been on Team Whinyarse, repeatedly berating anyone who spoke of missing their social lives for frivolity and selfishness, were also happily acknowledging that they had seen and hugged their friends, maybe hit a dance floor, maybe just gone and had dinner with eight or nine of their favourite people.
We don’t know, yet, what the future holds, though it’s likely that vaccination and ventilation will do a lot to reduce the transmission rates. What we do need to bear in mind, though, is that puritanism and sacrifice-for-the-sake-of-sacrifice will never be the solution and should be resisted.
Oh, and I can’t resist sharing this…//www.youtube.com/watch?v=vOgyq3opK5k