I’m nearly freakin’ fifty!

For some reason other birthdays have just slid past with no real impact; fifty seems to have a gravity that is drawing objects, from past and future,  into it’s orbit.

The Bride I found this photo when moving house, recently, and hearing about Chris Knox’s stroke brought back memories of this day.

My friend, Tall Tony, and I had a faux-wedding in the Franklin Rd, Ponsonby, house we shared with a bunch of other misfits.

It was a gay wedding:  frivolous and light-hearted;  and the dress code commanded cross-dressing, which my mother took to with aplomb becoming a “boot-boy” for the day.

The Enemy had recently landed in Auckland, and become Toy Love. We were lucky enough to have them play in our basement for the wedding guests, and I was lucky enough to borrow Jane’s mother’s dress for the occasion -dressed up with safety-pins and a feather boa.

Toy Love wowed us and we took every chance thereafter to see Chris “strut his stuff”.  Thanks, Chris.

Thirty years on, memories of  good times shared retain the power to transport you into realising that the younger, freer version of yourself is still there inside you. Yeehaaaa!