Celebrate good times, come on!
(Let’s celebrate)
Celebrate good times, come on!
There’s a party goin’ on right here
A celebration to last throughout the years
We gonna celebrate your party with you
— Kool and the Gang
Vicki, Tom and we attended the 50th wedding anniversary celebration of Bill’s eldest niece. A Triple A advisor set up a Southwest Airlines package that included air fare to Los Angeles, a rental car and four nights at the pricey Portofino Inn and Yacht Club at Redondo Beach — all for a good price. My patience and physical stamina being in short supply, I prefer nonstop air travel even if it costs more.
We landed in Los Angeles at 8:00 AM California time, retrieved our baggage and dragged it to a shuttle for a ten-minute ride to the car rental. (Wheeled baggage is a blessing. When we were young we had to carry it.)
The rental place was crammed with people. Finally, Tom and Bill succeeded in entering our information and found our car that Bill had upgraded to full size to accommodate our luggage and my rollator.
While the plane descended I could see from on high mile after mile after mile of buildings jammed closely together. I wondered if we humans are the ants of the universe. I viewed the nine-mile drive to Redondo Beach as a foretaste of Hell. Oh, the uglification that humans have wrought upon a once pristine land!
I thought that I was a cosmopolite after living in Indianapolis for so long, but Indy is downright rural when compared with Los Angeles County that has nearly ten million people — a greater population than those of 43 states — and 8,000 people per square mile compared with Marion County’s 2,300 people per square mile. People endure the problems associated with such a large population and long commutes to work because California has everything: mountains, ocean, deserts, forests and jobs.
What a contrast when we went to Palos Verdes to attend the party. There are lovely homes and lawns on hills and bridle paths for the residents’ horses. My niece, Dee, said that’s where the mink and manure set live. The venue where the celebration took place had a view of the ocean that reminded me of Big Sur which is one of the loveliest places I’ve ever seen.
As Cole Porter wrote in a song in the movie “High Society,” it was “an elegant, swellegant party” with bling, glitz and glam galore. The women and girls were chic in long gowns, and our hostess was resplendent in gold lamé. The men and boys were ever so debonair in formal attire. Attentive servers proffered yummy hors d’oeuvres out in the courtyard, followed by a delectable dinner. My favorite tipple, champagne, flowed from start to finish.
After dinner, couples danced; women danced together; ever-changing groups danced together. I loved watching Vicki dance with her father and cousins. She danced so much that she was sore the next day. One of the hits of the evening was when a niece’s husband danced with an elderly lady who had to use her cane, but could really shake it.
Surely, life is meant to be savored and celebrated. What fun! A Friday evening cocktail party, the Saturday celebration, a Sunday birthday brunch, basking in the sun at the beach and watching people enjoying themselves, quality time with Tom, Vicki and relatives . . . and we neither cooked nor cleaned!
Nature is tenacious: We saw and heard fat, sleek sea lions at our hotel. A great blue heron perched ever so still on the peak of a building on the pier and then stalked down to the roof’s edge to snap up bait fish that a fisherman tossed up to it. On Sunday night we watched the lunar eclipse, and it was time to call it a day . . .
P.S. Last week the New Jersey turnpike was closed for 14 hours because of an accident. wclarke@comcast.net