Thang Nguyen 555

When I died, I would throw a ball (after all, I have organized a bunch of them in my youth)..for all who had gone before me…people who sat under scorching heat in Nam’s jungle, listening to “Reflections of my Life” (before they themselves got on the Vietnam Memorial Wall).

I would put on music we once loved, meet all the people we had missed so much whether in passing/on line or related by blood.

I would make sure the floor is sprinkled freely with Johnson & Johnson Baby Powder so the Tango dancers won’t trip over (heck, I will throw in those customized pairs of dancing shoes…since we have all the time in the world).

I would apply “stirring & settling” technique I learned in CELTA to hold everyone’s attention even “ghosts”.

And of course, those who died unjustly would have free passes (unlike at Studio 54 where you were given a bartending job based on your boyish looks)…as long as they could show me their wounds e.g. war wounds or 9/11-like wounds (no need for vaccinations or masks).

The ball I have in mind is for the Fallen, falling men and women. Dance away unhindered, for the worst of fears i.e. Death, is behind us.

I cannot imagine the “vibes”….”I see “dead people dance”….

Music is loud, jovial. People (ghosts) laugh and cry at will, uninhibited (we’re all in the same “boat”…)

The other side of death should free us unlike any other.

Artists seek to die daily ( or in one instance, cutting off his ear) in order to live and produce their “immortal” works for mass consumption.

All things must pass (George Harrison).

We all know this, but live on in wishful thinking.

On rare occasions do we reflect on life and death, just for a second before reverting right back to our perpetual denial.

One thing I would not allow in: people who were deceptive and fakes (to spare them the awkwardness of not knowing how to behave and be their forgotten-selves).

This ball is one for keeps: the night, the ambience, the congeniality, the eternality of it all: we are talking Woodstock and all the concerts ever thrown: Gatsbyesque… weekend at Bernie, Sixteen Candles, Super Bowl’s half-times, Inauguration lead-ins, …..every which way imaginable.

Who says the dead don’t know how to party.

It’s the half-dead who lack the imagination, hence tribal-ized, dis-connected, and out-of-touch with one another (while working in the same chamber, living in the same household, and breathing in the same eco-system).

If this Climate Change keeps up, my ghost ball might be extremely crowded and hot. Turn up the A/C . Full capacity – f**k the fire code we’re already dead, burning with unfulfilled desire to ..oh well, live. We’re….covid’s, cancer’s and (hate)crimes’ dead.

Oh, in case you didn’t get the invitation, because of digital divide or covid divide, just come in. I will vouch for you. After all, the floor is less crowded during those “settling” inter-ludes with French love songs….”S’i tu n’existais pas”….or “Dust in the Wind”). It’s designed for bathroom breaks and refills at the bar where you are more than likely bump into your ex’s…

When we’re already dead, we don’t need to be reminded of co-morbidity, of futility, of temporal relationships. Heck, I even invite my ex’s to dance (only if it’s a stirring song – like “Let’s Twist again”). We are by then existing in eternity, not Alpha-Omega flow.

Everything then is in Kairos (the Greek’s equivalent of our Chronos, but more circular and it lasts forever).

You may want to bring your own booze, guitar picks and strings (since your nails no longer grow due to the lack of nutrients).

It’s gonna be a long ball without the need for video streaming. We would be in an ever-present, with no need for memories. You would be in good company. I would make sure of that. Much more than facebook AI’s shopping and friends suggestions. Oh, don’t worry about how you look or what you would put on. We will be THE first ever most democratized ball and concert ever thrown outside of Albert Hall or Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts.

Toss the tuxes. Join me. Be free if you have never understood what that word means.

P.S. on second thought, perhaps I should let it be recorded for the living’s sakes? What do you think? No? Let’s keep it a secret between us. See you at OUR ball.