Partying in unique to the human race.   We're basically a partyin' kind of species -- the only one around, as far as I can tell.   I mean, let's face it; the thought of a rhino trying to disco or wombats throwing a toga party is kind of ludicrous.   Only Homo Sapiens have developed the art of having a good time into a science.

The first party occurred in 50,000 B.C. (around five-ish), and was really more of an accident than anything.   It seems that on that day, Ugg and his mate were foraging for chow on a hillside covered with grapevines, when they came across a strange puddle.   Unlike most puddles, which were generally a muddy brown in color, this one was purple, and was exuding an aroma which was... well..... interesting.

What had occurred, of course, was that a couple of the overgrown amphibians of the period had gotten into a "Who's the Toughest Dinosaur on the Block" contest on the side of the hill, crushing a few million grapes in the process.   The juice had run downhill, where ten or twelve gallons had collected in a depression in the ground.   Then, over a period of days, Time and Nature (in their infinite wisdom) had done that voodoo that they do, and fermented the juice into a delightfully articulate Cabernet Sauvignon.

Ugg, being both thirsty and adventurous, thought, "What the heck!", or the cavedude equivalent, and slurped up a couple of big swallows.   He thought for a moment, then decided that the stuff wasn't bad at all.   The bouquet was a bit arrogant, but Ugg could live with that.   He motioned for his mate to join him, and together they wiped out over a gallon in the space of twenty minutes.

Just as they were sitting back to lick their lips (and their fingers and their armpits, too, probably -- sanitation was not in vogue that year) along came some of Ugg's buddies: Erg, Ogg, Arg and Skippy, with their own mates in tow.   Ugg shared his discovery with them (it's an interesting anachronism that Ugg became the first man to provide a "round for the house" roughly 45,000 years before the first house was built), and for the next couple of hours things got pretty merry.

At one point, Ugg had just finished a conversation (or at least as close as you can come to a conversation when your avenues of communication are limited to pointing to things and hitting one another on the head with clubs) with Skippy and was standing in line to use the bush when he realized that he was having more fun than he had ever had in his life.   He decided that he would definitely have to do this again sometime. Having made this momentous decision (and simultaneously inventing the Social Calendar), Ugg carefully noted the position of the sun in the sky, then waded back into the debate, which raged on well into the night.

Late the next morning when Ugg got up (actually, he awoke quite early, but elected to go back to sleep when he discovered that a pissed-off mastodon had somehow gotten inside his skull, where it was currently stomping around and knocking things over), he began watching the sky carefully.   When the sun began to approach the same position as when he had checked it the day before, Ugg rushed up the hillside and stood beside the purple puddle, waiting for the fun to begin.   After a couple of hours, Ugg had come to three conclusions: One, his feet hurt; Two, he had probably missed dinner by now (and it was grubs baked in Johnson grass tonight, dammit); and Three, the fun wasn't happening because there was something different about this evening.   For the first time, Ugg glanced around and noticed that he was alone.   That was it!

He raced down the hill to the communal fire, where everyone else was sitting around burping grub-flavored burps and making brief comments about the meal with small sticks.   Ugg sat down among them, too excited to even bash out a greeting, and waited some more.   Still nothing.   Just as he was about to give up and forget the whole thing, Ugg was struck by a flash of inspiration.   Or, to be more precise, he was struck by a small flash of lightning, which in turn generated the necessary voltage for the inspiration. In those days, that's about what it took to kick the prehistoric brain into high gear.

Using a very strong argument (a club of heroic proportions), Ugg persuaded the group to accompany him once again to the hillside, where they all gathered around the wonderful purple puddle.   Pretty soon someone got thirsty, then someone else, and... well, you can take it from there.

Parties have progressed dramatically since that fateful day (although I have thrown a couple that were amazingly similar to the original), but the lesson that Ugg learned has remained unchanged throughout the ages -- in order to have a party, you must have three things; some people, a place and alcohol.

Now before all you temperance freaks get your axes in a wad, let me clarify what I just said.   I did not say that you have to drink to have a good time, nor am I implying that anyone has to get drunk or that any particular person has to drink at all.   I am simply stating the fact that for a get-together to be classified as a party, alcohol must be present for those who do desire to imbibe.   Without hooch, it may be a rap session, a gathering, a meeting, a forum, a social, an assembly or just a bunch of people having a great time together, but don't sully the definition by calling it a party.   Anyone who thinks that a "Tupperware Party" qualifies as a party has never been to one sober.   The alcohol of your favorite flavor, even in moderation, is relaxing and acts as a social lubricant.   It lowers inhibitions and generally makes most people act a lot more like the person they really are.   There is no such thing as a "mean drunk" -- they are simply mean people who successfully hide their true nature until they start drinking.   Someday perhaps, when mankind learns to achieve this state of mind as an act of volition, then, and only then, will we be able to have real parties without alcohol.   Until that day arrives, however, keep your refrigerators stocked and try to arrange your parties so that the Jack Daniels is on one side of the room and the guys in cowboy hats are on the other.