Back in “the day” when I was young-er and living in NYC, I was lucky enough to be a part of a group of friends that became like family to me. We were all in our mid to late 20s, making our way together through first career mishaps, crazy bosses, jackass men and a city that wouldn’t let us quit. We’ve all since split and moved to California, Ireland, New Jersey, Staten Island and Connecticut but there was one night in Port Chester, NY that we’ll never forget.

Somehow we fell into partying with this group of guys who were relentless at promoting themselves. This was the early days of mass email and these guys latched on - building lists of people that they could email write-ups about their weekend adventures and announcements about upcoming gatherings. At the time, retro ’70s was huge in NYC so these guys decided to have a Boogie Nights party. For me and my girls, it was like a message from the glittery gods of platform shoes and feathered hair.

We spent HOURS. We shopped out our costumes at Salvation Armies and cheap discount stores, we bought loud make-up and talked endlessly about what look each of us could carry off. The highlight of our make-ready was studying the blue eyeshadow of William H. Macy’s wife in Boogie Nights as she got jiggy with a guy who was not William H. Macy. We actually paused the scene so we could replicate the look. When the pause ended, we rewinded and paused again.

When felt boogied up enough, we jumped on a train out of the city to Port Chester where we anxiously talked about what everyone else would be dressed as or who would be there and how awesome the night ahead was sure to be. It seemed like days since we started getting ready. The time had come to shake it down.

Arriving at the train station, the host picked us up and provided many compliments on our presentation and effort. We didn’t seem to notice that he was sans Boogie Nights apparel. We were dying to jump right into the festivities. Walking into the house, I was pretty sure I could feel my wispy feathered do go limp as we entered into nothing. No balloons. No streamers. No people. Well, there were some people but they were all huddled in a side room watching a football game. Not one of them in polyester or blue eyeshadow.

They didn’t stay in that room long. We had arrived and we were ready to party. It took a while but we got that group off their butts and made a heck of a boogie out of that night. We have the pictures to prove it.

I think the best marketers and business strategists can take a page out of the Boogie Nights’ book. These days, so much effort is spent mapping and measuring and mulling over promotional strategies that will garner X, Y, Z penetration and deliver A, B, C results. We spend more time trying to control the outcome of a product or company than actively living in the goodtimes and pitfalls that happen every day. When you live in the moment, you are agile and aware. You can recognize opportunities that you may have missed by looking at tomorrow.

If my pals and I knew that we’d show up to a blah party that night in Port Chester, we would’ve done something else. But we didn’t. Instead we spent too much money on ourselves, too much paste on our face and too much time giving each other belly laughs. The result wasn’t showing up to a disappointing party. We were the party and, today, friends for life.