For the Midweek Motif at Poets Unite – Dance. I was really into Disco in the 1970’s. Gay Pride and free dancing were all born in the discos.
Backyard Disco
“Up above my head I hear music in the air that makes me know there’s a party somewhere” – The Trammps, Disco Inferno
Bees go back and forth in
weaving do-si-dos,
butterflies soar and dip,
hummingbirds hover and then zip!
it is a disco inferno in my back yard –
how the creatures dance
and make me dance too
Here we are, another Friday the 13th! Listen to this oldie but goodie and dance away your bad luck. Back in the day, Saturday’s were devoted to watching Soul Train, eyeing the fashions, trying out new moves, listening to extended play version of hot songs….the EP of Bad Luck I had at home was 12 minutes 33 seconds – the same version burning the floor at the disco. This version is quite a bit shorter and is a video of Harold Melvin and The Bluenotes getting it on with the Soul Train gang. I had fun reliving the moves for my husband. He joined in on the second play. “No wonder you lived at the disco. This is fun!” Well, of course it was.
I hope this takes the “bad luck” out of your Friday 13 and gets your feet to moving and your butt to shaking, working down those shoulders and doing a little peel down. A friend had Harold Melville down pat and he would lip sync with several of us behind him being the background group. Such fun and folks loved it. The DJ would even announce it so we could get lined up. You will see the back singers in the group doing a peel down…
Put on your boogie shoes and dance!!! Crank it up!
Last night, my husband and I were listening to a radio station that plays hits of the 80’s and 90’s. I was ironing clothes and he was washing dishes. Nice, dull domesticity. Then, on the radio began yet another one of Rick Astley’s wonderful danceable songs. I started shaking my hips and I heard my guy drying his hands. In a breath, he grabbed and pulled me to him and we began to dance. He smiled down at me, “Remember the first time we danced to this?” I grinned and said, “oh my yes!”. And we danced ourselves into a sweat.
Years ago, at the wedding reception of one his numerous cousins, we were sitting at a table and watching the bride and groom gyrate and several guests twisting, jumping, clogging, whatever it was…this song came on, an oldie the DJ had thrown into the mix in an effort to get more people on the dance floor and a song with a definite beat that anyone could follow. It was Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up”. Inside, I cringed. This song had had a lot of meaning to me when it came out in 1987 but now it just meant memories and heartache.
My husband and I had been dating several months and felt a definite connection along with our many similar interests: odd bits of Trivia, Star Trek, Civil War history, mathematics, good food, and dancing. It never ceased to amaze me, considering how clumsy he was at some things, how well he could dance and how good he was in martial arts. We enjoyed each other’s company but me holding back, afraid of another massive heartbreak. He sensed it but never pried.
So, that song came one and he took my hand and said, “let’s dance”. I shook my head. “It’s a good one. Let’s show these folks how it’s done”. Reluctantly I stood up and we stepped out on the small floor. In about a minute, we had people standing up, watching, clapping in time. At one point, he pulled me close and sang in my ear:
Never gonna give you up
Never gonna let you down
Never gonna run around and desert you
Never gonna make you cry
Never gonna say goodbye
Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you…
I gave him a little push and said, Don’t. Don’t sing, just dance. He looked down at me and before I knew it, he had dipped me down in a graceful Latin tango dip. Close to my lips he whispered, “That was him. That was then. This is me. This is now”. I looked up into his sweet blue eyes and thought of another pair of eyes – brown, almond shaped, who had left a few years earlier. I closed my eyes and my love came closer and kissed me. This sweet man, 10 years younger and a private romantic had laid it out for me. He pulled me back up into his arms and we did one last swirl. The music ended. We stood looking at each other and his relatives all cheered and clapped. We then went back to our table to sit. Several cousins came by and said, We didn’t know he even knew how to dance! I thought, there is a lot you don’t know about this quiet, serious man. I thought, there is a lot I don’t know.
A couple of months later, he used another Rick Astley song to propose to me. And it is true, when he sang those words, he meant them. So…..If you haven’t had a dance with the love of your life lately, or sang them a love song, or grabbed them and kissed them as if it was your second date, then do it. And hey, let’s dance!
Tonight, in TV wasteland (it’s only TV wasteland….) my husband happened upon Saturday Night Fever. I begged him to please watch something more amusing, such as the Walking Dead, but he was insistent. I sighed and resigned myself. Okay, I know how to deal with this, I sez to myself.
Having been a disco inferno – 10 pm – 4 am worshiper at the shrine of disco, I knew what to do. As soon as the movie went into action, I went with it, scene by scene…swingin’ the paint can, arguing about the bloody pork chop….he was annoyed until this scene started and I matched John step by step, beat by beat.
As soon as it was over, my beloved hit the off button on the remote and said to me: I knew you did the disco rounds and I’ve seen you dance ballroom, but at 62, you just put Travolta to shame. I smiled and nodded and said, “and your point?”
He said, you are a dangerous woman – and when I grow up, I want to dance like that. I shrugged. “My dear, I hope you dance better.”
So…..keep some things secret ladies…and pull out those secrets when they will make the most impact….
I’m still keeping my air guitar impression of Pete Townsend doing Baba O’Reilly for another day.