Named for Joseph Pulitzer’s daughter, the annual Lucille’s Ball party features skits, faculty roasts, and dancing, or so we were told. I wrote a couple of skits, whipped together some spoof presentation slides (Apple’s PowerPoint-equivalent, Keynote, made this both pretty and easy) and shaved my facial hair (my usual Van Dyck) off in stages: I left a very ’70s mustache for an early skit, ducked offstage, and used a battery powered trimmer to shave off the mustache before I went on in drag for a subsequent skit.
I had forgotten how annoying it is to shave my chin.
After the skits and sketches came the mediocre food and the dancing. Nice to see that despite the median age for the school being nearly ten years less than my own, the songs that bring people to the dance floor are substantially the same: Stevie Wonder, Michael Jackson (Thriller), the Cure (Friday I’m in Love, of course), Soft Cell (Tainted Love), James Brown…
And then there was Hollaback Girl. Seriously catchy tune, seriously wtf lyrics.