What Is a Foam Party?

Look, I wasn’t invited to the Jeff Bezos and Lauren Sanchez wedding. You probably weren’t either. Shame on us. The happy couple rented out Venice but spared the rest of Italy and invited people I bet they hardly knew or didn’t know like Tom Brady and every Kardashian/Jenner under the sun and Orlando Bloom, whom I never heard of before I started reading about the gala affair, and Leonardo DiCaprio, of course, and Oprah, of course, and Bill Gates (do you think Gates and Bezos were dweebs in high school?) and what appear to be Lauren’s enhanced boobs and tush but what do I know.

But the thing that absolutely made me mad with envy so that I foamed at the mouth was the foam party. It took place on Jeff’s big yacht which looks like the Guggenheim Museum and probably cost more than the entire budget of Oakland, California. Lots of the very famous people showed up on the yacht in bathing suits and sprayed each other with foam.

Me, never in my entire life have I sprayed a single person with foam, although I once got my mother in the eye with whipped cream when I mishandled a can of Cool Whip, and she immediately got me back, but that was in our Brooklyn kitchen and not on our yacht which I kept in a puddle in the Brooklyn Botanical Garden. I can’t say I’ve even had the urge to spray foam on someone, but those social elites on the big yacht sure seemed to enjoy themselves and they know what they’re doing.

Can someone out there tell me if you ever attended a foam party and what the fun of it is. It seems like something a college fraternity would host. Toga, toga. FYI, I spent the past week in Ashland, Oregon at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, an annual trip I love and, sadly, no one on stage sprayed foam, not even in As You Like It. People in Oregon don’t know from a good time.