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.
kanzen sakura 