It was Silent Music Revival, deluxe holiday edition.
The silent was the two movies, the music was Snowy Owls and the Revival was more of a party in a 19th-century townhouse on Franklin Street.
Shoegaze accompanied "The Insects' Christmas" and "The Frozen North," the latter with Buster Keaton killing people.
It was funnier than it sounds.
My only complaint with having Snowy Owls do the musical score tonight was that hearing them for 24 minutes was not enough.
They must have sensed my feelings because even after the films ended and Jameson said thanks for coming, they began to noodle around and people like me stayed to listen.
At a Christmas party afterwards, I was talking to a friendly woman I didn't know and she was complimenting me wildly on my tights.
When her boyfriend came up, she began to introduce me when he waved her off, saying we already knew each other.
"Oh? How do you two know each other? she asked in a less friendly voice than before.
I turned back around to her. "He's never seen me with my tights off," I assured her.
That cured that attitude problem.
Mingling and misconceptions, that's the stuff holiday parties: are made of.