I learned a lot from Allen and Janet (parents) but probably the most important thing was how to entertain and throw a good party. Now they had mucho practice time to hone their skills, practically every weekend. It was a combination of life in a boring suburban town and an unusually high rate of alcoholism. I mean these people knew how to tip the tumbler!
So the secret really wasn’t that secretive. You did a great presentation of all hard liquors and mixers. Wine and beer hadn’t yet achieved the status it currently enjoys. Not sure why. People back then loved drinks that required ice cubes, mainly so they could shake them whilst mingling. You don’t shake wine and shaking a beer could poke an eye out, so that’s not gonna make for a good party beverage.
The second secret was to allude to the presence of food with intermittent passing of trays of grilled stuff with a dipping sauce or stuffed grape leaves or little meatballs served with fresh parmesan. The theory was keep ’em hungry and get ’em social (drunk) to the point of sugar shock before wheeling out the dinner. Usually around 9:00 PM. They reasoned that most people were boring and anyone on their third cocktail could seem interesting.
If you served food too soon, it killed everyone’s buzz and they’d usually leave early. Keep ’em lubed up and you get rewarded with high level mingling. The kind of mingling where people tell stories they were sworn they’d never repeat, secrecy flying out of loose lips, husbands hitting on wives other their own … the fun stuff. This is why they kept coming back in droves. When Allen and Janet threw a party, there was no parking space on the entire street. Now back in the day, nobody had yet connected dangerous driving to alcohol consumption.
Drunk driving’s bad? Not in Fairfield County, Connecticut in the 70s and quite possibly today.
It’s what one did. Nobody brought stuff like brownies or cheese trays. Grill a hamburger? Oh come on. This isn’t a fast food joint. Most of the food came on skewers on top of a bed of rice pilaf. Salads? Oh hell no. You did that once a week to keep yourself regular, not because you actually liked it. I remember somebody once brought a plant and my mother was highly insulted, taking it as an indication her gardening skills were sub par. It never got planted.
The sign of a successful party was when Allen and Janet had enough and went to bed while twenty of thirty people still held court. Now THAT was a party. Done by ten o’clock? Big dud. Offering coffee after dinner? What are you kidding me? Why?
Sometimes people would just show up at their house on any given weekend day (or night) and just start their own party. They knew where everything was. I remember a Friday night when someone rang the doorbell, I answered it and told them my parents weren’t home.
“Oh that’s no problem. We know where everything is.”
And they did. The next thing you knew the pool deck was twenty people deep. Skinny dipping you wonder? Everyone knew who was working with what let’s just say. A memorable party incident was when my mother noticed she was starting to lose a lot of jewelry. There was a cocktail party thief and nobody ever got caught because Janet reasoned “well they’ve got shitty taste … they’re just taking the costume jewelry and leaving the real stuff.”
I know I started hiding things like Cub Scout badges and my bottle of coins. We never did find out who it was but then again I don’t think anyone was keeping track of the partiers to determine if they were in fact friends that were invited or just anonymous stragglers who caught wind of this no holds barred series of festivals. I mean you’d say hello to not be rude but who the hell knew who they were?
So let’s recap the rules of a good party. It’s easy. There’s no rules. Nothing is prohibited. Open house means open house. An invitation is a formality. Excessive alcohol consumption and bawdy behavior was the standard and petty larceny was overlooked.