Its been sometime since I posted anything (of any relvance or not) and although there is a little bit to say the general theme of late 2006 and early 2007 is calm, understated progress for many of the Katz, I think you'll all agree.
2007 was ushered in with a sadly disparate Katz, we were all over the shop this year and I guess it's going to happen that way every now and then I couldn't help thinking I had better get used to it. I fooked off to a wedding with Doris, Rags went off with his Doris, T-bone and Chewy I am not even sure, Pete?? G12? The family guys, not sure either, and so the list goes on, Jon, Ricey, Tom? Aucune idée....On the 29th Jan it all seems a long time ago anyway, but I just wanted to say. Next year we'll have to arrange something cool, I'll do it. Famous last words! Oh and daz and James, any chance of a reunion anytime this decade? I am serious, this is beyond a joke. I always get excited and think I'll go back to Chil'eh but I can really fook off anywhere for more than a week until later in the year by which time I've usually punked all my hols or misplanned and can't get the two or three weeks I want off to go south of the Ecuator. Maybe in the back end of 2007 I might take the first few weeks of December off and go to see me Gran via Brazil. You get m'eh? We'll see.
Paris - Creole, Ragga and hip - hop, 'till yer drop!
So that brings me (sort of) to the second weekend in January. I went off to Dub for two weeks for work and inbetween I flew back for the small matter of Tom's 30th party. I Mustered up all my Fran Strength (not much, believe........) to get to work and then on the Eurostar straight off the plane and after a full days work, and despite the tiredness was very much looking forward to a weekend with the Newmanoid. I got there on time and had the pleasure of bumping into Francois, an old mate of mine from JPM. He guided me to a 'locals only' taxi rank up and away a little bit from the Gare du Nord and I got to Tom's in no time. As usual, I was welcomed with open arms. It's really quite amazing whenever you see an old mate, it doesnt matter how long ago you saw them it just slips right back to the same old banter from the field at Becket.
All hail, look at Tom's amazing collection of black vest tops! Awesome!! We high fived and chatted for ages, much to my surprise or not, we had to cook and prepare lunch for the Saturday before we could start on the dinner for Friday. So I helped as best I could peel and stir and provided moral support for the rather nervous Tom. About 1.30am came and we started on the dinner for Friday, of course for Tom every breakfast is a feast, dinner a banquet and out came dinner in the shape of two poussains and some fresh Thai paste, we ate, drank wine and quickly updated each other on our goings on and sometime closer to 2am my flight finally came back to haunt me and I passed out asleep.
Saturday came all too soon and we got up and quickly got to prepping the flat for the party. As I understood it Tom was expecting an afternoon lunch to turn into a PM dinner and then party.....which was pretty much happened. We popped out did a shop, got back and started cooking, the first guest, a mate of Tom's from the Sorbonne and then a family of 5, two parents and three lovely little girls, rocked up and we ate lunch. We all had much fun laughing at the attention seeking filles and Tom finally relaxed a bit. He had spent the whole time since breakfast fretting about when the first of the guests would turn up, this manifested itself in sporadic 'spinning-bird' kicks, recital of Ice-T lyrics, more kick boxing moves and frantic phone calls. No amount of, 'well-if-you-invite-people-for-the-afternoon-everyone-will-just-come-late-anyway' reassurance could calm him down.
So the party kicked off about 8 once Toms front room and kitchen filled up and I got on with getting drunk. Ricey rocked up with his mate Dimitri and even halted the proceedings for a speech to remind everyone why they were here! Nice touch I thought.
As it got later the music got louder and phatter, rather surprisingly Tom had managed to get away with almost 3 hours non-stop of Trinidad and Tobaigan creole and old natty Kingston Town reggae, and the crowd loved it! But not wanting to leave it there, the Ice-T and assorted hop hop classics came out as well as a few floor fillers and basically the front room errupted into a rithing mass of ass just grinding up and down. One american lass called, wait for it.....Regan (yes its true) started giving riggy grinding lessons which was well funny, considering myself an expert in the area I gladly shared a few hints and handy tips with her and we both left the night better riggy grinders. If only Rags had been there to show us all how to dance at half the speed of the music with one arm doing that driving-whilst-listening-to-mess'eh-beats move he does, with a cuppa on! Mate you would have ruled the floor that night!
4am arrived, my body shut down and I went to bed....Tom followed and then The President got in too! I fell asleep with an after hours lesson of Anglo American dipolmacy in full swing, oh the glory days of teenage snogs in a bed with yer mate asleep next to you. What a pull mate!
Dimanche, coffee, posh lunch and more coffee. High fives, grand cincs and good byes were all said and the Eurostar called. I slept all the way and got home very happy about seeing Tom celebrate his 30th in such style.
Oh and I also found a wicked shop.
You get m'eh DUNC!
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