Party Animal
When I was a little girl, we had one television that came with an antennae. On Sundays, our newspaper came with a comic section and a guide to the week’s television shows, times, and channels. Each night every channel broadcasted the news nationally at the same time. No matter the channel you watched, men -mostly white men-, delivered the news in a suit and tie. A few stood out for their impressive ties, suits, or even their eyebrows but mostly they all were required to look the same and speak with a low base voice inflection.
One year my teacher assigned the task of watching the election coverage for the week. I normally found the news very dull and used it as an excuse to read a book. But that first evening as I half heartedly listened, I became particularly intrigued by the mention of parties. In fact, they were each an animal and a color. Horse or Elephant. Red or Blue. In a time of Saturday morning cartoons being the only day allocated on the television for kids shows, I was mesmerized by the idea of a party where the grownups and kids would all wear a color and could decorate with elephants or horses. Most of the talk the grown ups shared was useless monotone. But, this. This was glorious. At first I couldn’t tell what “party” we were going to have. When I looked around the house, I mostly saw ducks or geese. Which always got in the way of fort making and indoor balloon volleyball games. But one evening, as the monotone droned on in the background, I saw it. In plain sight. A wooden, knee-high elephant statue. I got excited! Maybe we would go to party and there might be elephant rides? That night my dreams were a Disney masterpiece of rainbow hued elephants. All the next day and through out the remainder of the assignment, I watched the clock, suddenly just as invested in the news as my parents were.
To be honest, grownups were not good party planners. Hardly anyone discussed or showed off the party animals. Sometimes they would appear in a comic or two on screen, but they referred to the animals by boring names that I couldn’t remember. I watched as the man on the screen talked to other men -and maybe a couple women- about the number of votes they thought each team had. It was so close. I was so worried we might lose. And then I would NEVER get to see the red elephants. My parents were so wrapped up in the election results, they asked us to go outside and play. We happily obliged.
Our home was on a dead end, so it became the yard all the kids would gather in. I remember that it had been raining off and on that day. The ditches were full of rain water. The ground was soggy between the blades of green grass. Even though the evening fall air was crisp, I loved playing barefoot in the puddles. The thrill of playing together kept our temperatures running warm. My siblings and friends spilled out of our homes to splash in the giant puddles and even run in and out of the ditch. I thought all the grownups were preparing for their parties and sent the kids outside so they wouldn’t be distracted.
I don’t remember the details, but at some point that evening I was wearing a purse. My best friend was talking about the election and she started saying how she was rooting for the blue horses. I was insulted and ran after her around the house with my purse while we were each yelling for the one we wanted to win. I knew how much she had always loved horses, but I couldn’t understand why she would choose a horse party instead of an elephant one! How could my best friend not root for elephants?! It’s not every day you could ride an elephant!
What a disappointment it was when no party of any kind happened. It didn’t matter who won. No one dressed up in any colors, or had a party with their party animals. It was terribly disappointing. For all I cared, we were just boring ducks and geese. Whoopidy doo. Our class assignment wasn’t any better. We had to write a report on what we learned and share it with our class. The boys wore suits. We girls wore dresses. For all I could tell, we were just acting like the boring adults on television every night. Let’s just say, it made me no less excited about growing up or having any interest in future elections.
As for my best friend and I? Nothing changed between us. I’m pretty sure the next day we were reenacting the “Sound Of Music” while singing at the top of our lungs. Most likely we had a picnic outside and imagined we were having a party in a jungle. Neither one of us brought up the animal fight again. To be honest, we cared more about laughing, playing, and singing than we did about the party neither one actually got to have. Within days, our backyards dried out enough for the neighborhood kickball game to commence. No one focused on winning. We all just paid attention to the game until our parents called us in for dinner.
