At the tail end of a pajama party Sunday morning I wrote in a steno pad, “Buy James Brown’s Greatest Hits”. An hour later, walking back into this room, I went right to the computer, opened Amazon, and did just that. Ten bucks. The CD was delivered amidst squalls in the rains of yesterday.
I loaded the CD into the Camry’s player and listened on the drive over to the Ocean Beach meditation meeting late afternoon, sun flicking through the storm clouds. It was wonderful, and here the phrase “blast from the past” means everything. Poppers, sparklers, quiet fireworks spreading out and drifting down through a dark celebratory sky. The 5 to the 8 to OB – “I Got You”; “I Got the Feeling”; “Make It Funky”; “Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag.” Wicked!
On the drive home in the dark, again gifted with a rainless hour, just arriving back into Golden Hill, “Try Me” came through the speakers, which were turned loud – and proud. Oh my head. Oh my heart. I felt all the slow dances of the Junior High dance class at the Methodist Church. Freshman and sophomore high school dances. Ladies Choices. Dancing at a party in Butchie’s basement, parents safely ensconced upstairs. The wonder and joy and the everything of slow dancing. All of it came back to me.
Lately I’ve been outrageously blessed to have slow dancing again alive in my life. Wicked, super yay!! What if everyone on the planet took half an hour today and spent that time slow dancing? Would Earth maybe ease up on its spinning just a little? How about you?
Here. Let me light one of those sparklers: