Archive for August, 2008|Monthly archive page

I think my grandma has that shirt. And she golfs in it. She has a matching purple visor.

I wouldn’t say that I’m a remarkably talented dancer. Others likely would, but I’m humble.

A few years before hitting the double digits in age, I attended my Uncle Steve’s wedding reception. For the purpose of context, it is important to know that the rehearsal dinner was held in the downstairs of a Pizza Hut outside Wichita, Kansas.

At the reception after the wedding, a small group of 15-20 people gathered on the dance floor, where I sat snacking to the side. I wasted little time in accepting the offer to dance. Early on I possessed the understanding that most “grown-ups” were merely patronizing me when encouraging me to do anything silly, but I never turned down the opportunity to entertain.

I found myself in the middle of the dance floor, in a growing circle of tipsies, recycling the only 4 dance moves I knew. The twist and shoulder shimmying were givens, but my two crowd pleasers were the ones I thought to be most racy. And, since everyone followed and repeated each of my moves, I simply couldn’t get in trouble for being the only one thrashing my head forward and back in traditional head banging. Giggles emerged as move #4 cycled back through each time, when I would place both hands on the sides of my head and thrust my 6 year old pelvis in every direction, leaving no air unassaulted.

I saw a photo recently of myself that reminded me of my independent mentality in a crowd of people. In May of 2007 I joined my college roomie in her hometown of Little Rock, for the Arkansas Riverfest. I’m a fan of turkey legs to say the least, and this was my first concern before traveling to the farthest of about 6 stages. Several of the food stands were turning away turkey hopefuls until they received more supplies and inventory. I’m not exaggerating when I say that they were out of turkey legs for LITERALLY hours. Not kidding.

We had a short list of performances we wanted to see, which included Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, Gym Class Heroes, George Clinton and the P-Funk Allstars, and Robert Randolph & the Family Band. Stubborn, hot, and grumpy, I refused to take my spot near the stage to watch the performances until I had a turkey leg in my hands. I stood in line alone, waiting (again, not exaggerating) LITERALLY 20-30 minutes for new t-leg availability. I missed nearly half of Red Jumpsuit Apparatus’ set, not because I was waiting in line, but because I was face down into a hot, juicy turkey leg. I became wasted space for the many teens singing and jumping around me careless as to the body odor emitting from their pubescent glands. Luckily, RJA was horrible and Gym Class Heroes stole my world.

That’s all I got.