22 March 2009
Now The Burp Is Old
The Burp's fortieth was a rockin' good time, as only a Burpgathering can be. Unfortunately - for blogging purposes - far too much rockin' good time was consumed by moi, and the evening passed very quickly and so much of what I can remember is not suitable for a klassy blog like this one. Particularly not the, er, speeches. If that's what one could describe them as.
When I arrived at the caravan park and asked the woman at reception if that was the surf club just down the road she said, "Oh, you're here for the fortieth." It wouldn't have surprised me if, after less than a year in town, everyone knew The Burp and knew that it was her birthday. But no, it was simply that half the caravan park was booked out to Burprevellers and they were all asking if that was the surf club just down the road.
So I trundled down there prior to the part-ay to catch The Burp, who was setting up the hall, and meet her Chap - her loverrrrr, if you will - who should probably get his own name at some point. She told me that The Rooster was also in town performing babysitting duties for Bay Leaf and Machiavelli, and for the Chap's two kids as well. The Burp said, "It's all a bit weird if you ask me." "But how weird can it be?" I asked. "Aren't you the one who arranged it?" Turns out the Chap and the Rooster don't have any "issues" with each other, which is a good thing. And why would they? The Chap is huge: he'd crush that poor old Rooster like a bug if there was a problem.
It was a fun night - The Burp's mates are all very friendly. I got to catch up with Mr and Mrs Chopper, and with Carrington. Carrington and I tried to request songs from the band but they had some long-winded explanation of why they wouldn't deviate from their set list, which we interpreted as them never having heard of Fox on the Run by The Sweet. Spoilers.
Everybody had to keep going outside into the cold night to talk: the band was so loud. Luckily people dressed in authentic 1960s gear so we were all cosily warm in our polyester outfits. Never mind shying away from naked flames: I was reluctant to stand under the roaring heat of a light bulb for too long.
This morning a bundle of us made our way - very carefully and gingerly - round to The Burp's where the Chap took, dare I say it, manful control of the barbecue and cooked us all breakfast. Then there was just the slight problem of that 400km drive home. But that's what they invented speeding for!