Gathan Beaga

don't fight it, feel it

Blam Blam Blam at Mighty MightyTwenty-four hours later, I’m still on a bit of a high. In between being slightly hungover that is.

Last night being of course, the Second Annual Wellingtonista Awards evening. R. and I had prevailed upon some friends to take the girls with them for the whole night, so that we could get a decent late-pass.

So we met in town after work, stopping at Wasabi for a quick fill of sushi to line the stomach before heading up to Mighty Mighty. First up was Russell Brown’s Public Address sleb quiz, whose outcome was probably not in doubt given the nature of the questions and DPF’s late addition to the Team On Russell’s Right.

Then were our awards. It had been carefully managed so that all but one of us Wellingtonistas didn’t know who the winners were until we opened the carefully crafted envelopes. There were surprises. There were prizes. There were cheers and boos. It was all good.

(Eventually someone in the Wellingtonista will get around to posting the results on the site, but that person won’t be me. I’m too shagged, and desperately need sleep right now.)

Later, Blam Blam Blam played. These four middle-aged greying gents (two of them in sports jackets! – had they just come from the golf club bar?) rocked. R. and I had forgotten just how good a live guitar band could be, and we stood, but not still, through most of the set. As you’d expect, the almost last song was “Don’t fight it Marsha…” and last of all was, the inevitable but keenly anticipated “There is no depression in New Zealand” and I sang drunkenly shouted the lyrics until hoarse, ragged with the effort of jumping around like a teenager in a mosh pit.

That was the night for R. and me. While others partied on until nearly dawn, we were in to bed by about 1:30am. Friday was a school day (some sensibly took the day off, but not I, unfortunately – on contract you tend to weigh up the impact of a day off a little more closely).

But even so the night was a pleasant blur of happy people and the warm satisfaction of knowing that our collective hard work had resulted in THIS, the best evening out R. and I have had in a long long time. And we’re not the only ones to have enjoyed themselves – so far Dan, Llew, DPF, Russell Brown, and Che have written on their nights out. (Che mentions my dancing, er, skills… and I can now reveal that when I wrote words on the Wellingtonista for a nominee for Best Public Art that “its stacked discs twist and gyrate like some manic geek at the school disco” I was drawing an autobiographical simile.)

We are already thinking about next year.