A most excellent time!

The party/dance was so much fun!  I can’t believe all the effort they went to.  There were these three beautiful fringed tent/blanket things attached to the ceiling, they looked hand crafted from where I was sitting, and warmed up the small hall with color.  There were photos of the bookstore placed around the room, and a long table with fresh melons and large cold prawns with spicy cocktail sauce and birthday cake to celebrate the 10th anniversary of this wonderful independent bookstore (A 10th year anniversary might not seem like much to most of you, but in the present economic environment with which these Independent books stores are trying to operate under, 10 years and not bankrupt, is an amazing feat) This party was also to celebrate Lee’s (the honorable bookstore owner) birthday.  There was an open bar, and little tables set up with midnight table clothes and little candles and red foil wrapped cherry kisses.  There were black and white balloons with trailing streamers and The band Cold, Cold Heart was playing.  It was all music from my era, (and a little bit before) the 50’s, 60’s, 70’s and a little dash of the 80’s.  So I could sing along loudly because the melodies were familiar and I knew some of the words.

And get this...people actually DANCED!  The band started to play and a bunch of people got up and began to dance.  In my experience this rarely happens.  Usually people need to get good and sloshed before they leap up and gyrate on the dance floor.  So either everybody had been partying way before the party, or this was a room full of uninhibited, dance loving people.  (My guess is there was probably a bit of both)

I had the best time.  Don is the most excellent husband a woman could have.  He is a rather shy sort, so when the band twanged it’s first guitar string, it was not in his nature to leap up and dash to the dance floor, however I turned to him and said, “Want to dance?”

First he swallowed hard and said, “Now?  You want to dance now?”

“Why not?” I said jauntily.  “Lots of room, no need to worry about bumping into anybody.”

“Uh...okay...If you want.”

“Yay!” I said, even though I knew he’d have rather hugged the side of the room for a while.  “Great, lets go.” And I jumped up and the other couple who had plopped at our table, decided to dance as well, and out we went to the dance floor and within seconds the whole place was dancing. 

And you know what was really great?  The wide range of ages.  There were a few young kids, a sprinkling of people in their 20’ and 30’s, a handful in their 40’s (I fall in this category) and then a bigger bunch in their 50’s, a bit heavier weighted in their 60’s and then petering out to a medium sized sprinkling in their seventies and then there was this tiny little woman who had to be in her (possibly) late 80’s, kicking up her heels and dancing the night away. 

Me, with all my middle aged complaints was in the younger part of the equation.  And people danced all kinds of ways.  I dance a bit odd, but I wasn’t the only one by a large stretch.  I didn’t feel like a dancing weirdo freak at all.  I fit right in.  I stomped and twirled and jumped up and down, kicking my feet out in all directions, and Don didn’t mind that I like to dance goofy, dance to have fun, play.  It’s such a relief sometimes to just wiggle and shake and be all elbows and knees after all those years of containment and constraint and lightness and beauty as a ballet dancer.  I am the anti-graceful dancer now.  And I have to say, it’s WAY more fun!

There was one point when I indulged in a particularly extravagant whirl, and my eyes glasses (not the rhinestone wonders, I should be getting them this week) but my staid, mid-range glasses went flying off my face and landed on the stage.  Luckily they were right at the front of the stage so I was able to dance right over and pluck my glasses up and plop them back on my nose.  I thought Don was going to fall over he was laughing so hard.  But did that stop my gleeful dancing?  No!  I just made sure not to whip my head around quite so vigorously.  If nothing else, I’m a good problem solver, and my glasses remained safely perched on my nose for the rest of the night.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Sunday, February 10, 2008 in Chewing the Fat

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