Queen of Babble

“Is this on?” I ask, and grab the microphone from its stand.

Is this on Is this on Is this on? My voice seems to reverberate across the valley.

“Oh,” I say. “I guess it is.”

Everyone on the lawn before me turns to stare up at me…including, I see, an openmouthed Vicky.

And Luke.

Who looks like someone just kicked him.

Great.

“Hi,” I say into the microphone. What am I doing? And why am I doing it again?

Oh yeah. It’s all my fault.

I wonder if they can see that my knees are shaking.

“I’m Lizzie Nichols. Blaine Thibodaux was supposed to be up here-not me-but he had, ahem, an emergency-” I glance behind me for support. Baz nods energetically. “Right. An emergency crisis and he had to leave. But we still have the rest of Satan’s Shadow,” I say, flinging out an arm to introduce the band. “Guys?”

The band members shuffle their feet. The crowd, confused but polite, applauds a little.

I seriously ca

“So, uh,” I say as I notice Shari, a look of abject shock on her face, weaving her way through the guests toward me, “I just want to say congratulations to Vicky and Craig. You two make a really beautiful couple.”

More applause, this time heartfelt. Vicky hasn’t stopped crying, but she isn’t crying as much. She looks more stu

Sort of like her cousin Luke.

“And, uh,” I say into the microphone. And uh And uh And uh And uh. “Since we’re missing a singer, I thought, in honor of your special day-”

I see Shari, out on the dance floor, shake her head at me, her eyes wide with alarm. No, she mouths. No, don’t do it.

“-my friend Miss Shari De

Shari’s shaking her head so fast her bushy hair is whacking her in the face. “No,” she says. “Lizzie. No.”

“-the great state of Michigan,” I go on. “It’s a song I’m sure you all know. Feel free to sing along if you want to. Guys.” I turn around to face Satan’s Shadow. “I know you know it, too. Don’t act like you don’t.”

Baz and Kurt raise their eyebrows at each other. The bass player still hasn’t torn his gaze from my legs.

“Vicky and Craig,” I say, “this one is for you.”

you you you you.

Then I clear my throat.

“‘Now, I,’” I sing, just as I have a hundred times before, at family gatherings, grade-school talent shows, dorm competitions, karaoke nights, and anytime I’ve had one too many beers.

Only this time my voice is so magnified I can hear it carrying all across the lawn…across the vineyard…down the cliff and into the valley below. The German tourists floating on rubber i

But no one joins in.

Well, maybe they need more of a lead-in.

“‘-had-’”

Hmm. Still no one joining in. Not even the band. I turn around to look at them. They’re staring at me blankly. What is wrong with them?

“‘-the time of my life-’”

It can’t be that they don’t know this song. Okay, sure, they’re guys. But what, they didn’t have sisters?

“‘And I never-’”

What is going on? I can’t be the only person here who knows this song. Shari knows it.

But she’s still standing down there on the dance floor, shaking her head, mouthing No, no, no.

“Come on, guys,” I say encouragingly to the band. “I know you know this one. ‘-felt this way before.’”

At least Vicky is smiling. And swaying a little. She knows this song. Although Craig looks a little confused.

Oh my God. What am I doing? What am I doing? I’m standing up here in front of all these people, singing my favorite song of all time-the perfect wedding song-and they’re all just standing there, staring up at me.

Even Luke is staring up at me like I was just beamed down from the starship Enterprise.

And now Shari’s disappeared. Where did she go? She was there a second ago. How can she let me down this way? We’ve been doing this song together since kindergarten. She always plays the girl part. Always.

How could she leave me hanging like this? I know I screwed up with the thesis thing, but how long can you stay mad at someone you’ve been friends with your whole life? Plus, I apologized for that.

Then I hear it. The snap of a snare drum.

Baz. Baz is joining in.

I knew he knew this song. Everyone knows this song.

“‘Oh, I-’” I sing, turning around to grin at him gratefully. Now Kurt’s playing an experimental chord. Yes, Kurt. You got it, Kurt.

“‘-had the time of my life-’”

Oh, thank you, guys. Thank you for not leaving me hanging.

Then a voice not my own booms out, “‘-It’s the truth-’”

And Shari climbs up onstage and comes to stand beside me, singing into the microphone.

And the bass player, whatever his name is, begins plucking out the familiar notes, while below us Craig gives Vicky a twirl…

And everyone applauds. And starts singing along.

“‘And,’” Shari and I sing, “‘I owe it all to you-’”

Oh my God. It’s working. It’s working! People are having a good time! They’re forgetting about the heat, and the fact that the brother of the bride has run off with the girlfriend of their host’s son. They’re starting to dance. They’re singing along!

“‘You’re the one thing,’” Shari and I sing-along with Satan’s Shadow, the Thibodauxes, and the rest of the wedding guests, “‘that I can’t get enough of, baby-’”

I look down and see Luke’s parents dancing along with everyone else.

“‘So I’ll tell you something-’” I sing, not quite believing what I’m seeing below me. “‘This must be love!’”

People are having a good time. People are clapping their hands and dancing. Satan’s Shadow has given the song a kind of Latin beat. Which it’s not supposed to have, but whatever. Now it sounds kind of like Vamos a la playa.

But oddly, this isn’t turning out to be a bad thing.

And then, just as we’re getting to our big crescendo, Shari elbows me, hard-which is not actually part of our choreography. I glance at her and see that her face has gone as white as Vicky’s dress. She points.

And I see Andy Marshall making his way toward the stage.

The Swinging Sixties brought about more than just a sexual revolution. Fashion underwent a revolution as well. Suddenly the feeling was “anything goes,” from miniskirts to tie-dye. A return to natural fabrics-made from the same materials with which our ancient ancestors wove their loincloths-in the seventies brought fashion full circle, when hippies revealed other uses for hemp than those popularized by the beatniks of the decade before…although the most popular use for it is still very much in style on college campuses.

History of Fashion

SENIOR THESIS BY ELIZABETH NICHOLS