Last night we went to Jod’s School’s Graduation / Prom Night — after the graduands invited selected few teachers and ‘companions’ (one of which is me). I was not exactly thrilled at the prospect of spending an evening with final year high-schoolers, not to mention that the whole experience is wholly alien to me: where I come from there is a 5-day excursion for final year pupils to mark their graduation, no smart dress parties and ballroom dancing. Well, no ballroom dancing here, either: just a slideshow with the best and worst of the school’s final year, some dancing, lots of hotel food and stunning-looking 18-year olds.
Let me put it this way: the percentage of preternaturally ugly people in the Outpost seems (to foreign eyes like mine) to be significantly high. In contrast to this, the vast majority of the prom crowd looked decent, to say the least, with some amazingly stunning highlights. Ugliness was severely under-represented. This is not due my usual bias for youth and young people — most of us old farts in the room agreed some of these young adults looked fabulous in their smart dress. This place must really be improving, somehow.
I for myself felt almost jealous: they are eighteen and life seemed to be a thing that has been going on for them for at least, say, 3 or 4 years, whereas I barely started living when I was 19. If you belong to the doomed ’80s generation of big hair, Ronnie Reagan, white trousers and Duran Duran, you are probably well aware of what I am talking about.
During the celebrations, the girl band representing the Netherlands in this year’s Eurovision Song contest stormed the room, sang a traditional Greek (!) song about when the next boat to an island is — or something, were applauded, said thank you and left. They are apparently touring Europe promoting their song and asking for our phone votes and they happened to stay in the hotel where the party was last night: