Don’t make me laugh, he said dead serious. Mayor’s Ball! And it’s a woman! he added in utter redness. He didn’t make me laugh either. I even thought it was vulgar and unworthy of a female mayor as a comment. Shouldn’t we have waited decades in Zottegem and looked out, eagerly awaiting a crowned municipal head in a skirt?
Hadn’t she taken over the torch from him after 3 years of Jenne rule?
Hadn’t she received our Bevegem objections against the demolition of villa De Freyne and the arrival of the Verloren Hoek from day 1, in harsh wintertime and numb,?
Hadn’t she recently put her cool shoulders under a heat project in her beloved Egmont city, a program full of initiatives to help her dear residents, wrinkled like all those 80-year-olds were personally called in 2020 during a Siberian cold wave, but also to give smooth-skinned people a chance to survive? at 50° and more ? Because many scored 50°, high in their apartment in Welzijnstraat, Hospitaalstraat, Kazernestraat, Kasteelstraat: what’s in a name?
Wasn’t she herself, on an internship, say, the hort, incognito, to smaller municipalities where the mayor opened churches, chapels, classrooms, clubhouses, local service centers such as that of WZC Egmont to suckers who want air conditioning, garden and terrace and went through life frantically now to protect them from dehydration?
When I saw the message in NUUS, I found it commendable that people with such a record worked out in such a short time to invite us, to invite me, to a ball, because I saw in it an opportunity for a word of thanks: thanks for wanting to be our mayor, but also thanks to all of us because we want to be its inhabitants. What if we had all moved to Herzele together? In Herzele there are also beautiful, stylish villas that can make way for hideous housing blocks. In Herzele, measures are also taken early in the event of a heat wave. In Herzele people also like petanque and petanque courts under the church tower and moreover we would already do “surplace” in Herzele for our 82e prick
I myself was immediately won over for an evening of pleasant waltzes on the Bevegem Pond Floor, liberally smeared with the best wax from bees from Zottegemse korfs.
Where I always make notes in my diary with black ballpoint pen, I now wrote down with red marker on October 1 : Ball of the mayor.
But some questions immediately arise. What exactly should I imagine at such a ball? On October 1, I’ll put on my louboutins and a creation by Issey Miyake, a one-man tribute to the designer who passed away two weeks ago?
Or am I fantasizing about a kind of schlager festival? A Zottegem edition of Musikantenstadl? Will I meet there next to mayor and aldermen Luc Steeno, Christoff, Lisa Del Bo, Laura Lynn, Yves Seghers? Would I rather run into the lederhosen Dietwin de Jodelaar from Balegem and would I prefer to wear my dirndl with tightly tied Riesengebirge?
Am I inspired by André Rieu’s hoop skirts with a spontaneous calculated polonaise over the H.Hartplein and by the many avenues, unfortunately not yet straight through the stadium site, for hours and hours?
No, not the latter under any circumstances. The organizers should not even think about such a thing. Such a hoop skirt soon demands 1 m2 of the surface of the banquet hall and Mayor Evelien holds sway over more than the historic center of Zottegem itself. There has also been Sint-Goriks-Oudenhove, which has always been a dance-loving and politically committed municipality that would happily come to the Bevegemse Vijvers with a 1000-strong delegation.
Strijpen will not want to be left behind and also marches out with 1000 diehards, not to mention Velzeke that hangs his Roman toga on the willows and opts for the obligatory hoop skirt to take over approximately 5000 m2 of the dance floor with a whole legion. As long as they don’t even get it in their heads at Triamant in Oudenhove to come and swing their legs and skirt in the air cheaply and whine along with Get Ready “May I be your boyfriend too”. As an Evelien you can’t say no to such a naive question…
Next problem : I imagine such a ball as in our youth, hey Denise, because you also hosted quite often and you, Rita, also enjoyed that small glimmer of preview of the women’s emancipation when the microphone called out very broadly: Invite ladies from ! Imagine a woman who could make a selection… Does our partner also gallantly bring us back to our place or does he just leave us orphaned on the dance floor when a party member crosses his dance path and points him to the bar with a magical sign?
We’ll see that on October 1.