Dance the Night Away

Prom Night. The highlight of many an awkward teenager's high school days. In my day, the days of dinosaurs and cavemen, it was a passage from youth to under-aged drinking and our first and often failed attempts at adulting. The teachers in the 70's turned a blind eye as they stepped out to fire up a doob themselves. None-the-less, for many, Prom set a precedence for how we define “fun.” Or maybe it was just the disco era, I'm not sure.

Dancing and music has been a huge part of my life. As a teenager, Pogo's Disco on Monday nights for nickle pitchers of 3.2 Coors was THE place to be. Death to disco came quickly and mercifully but the need to dance transcends the mirrored ball and BeeGees. Hitting the clubs with friends, drinking, live music and a dance floor, what more do you need?

Then comes age. The clubs lost their appeal. The cost lost it's appeal. The risk started to outweigh the fun but the primal need to move and groove to the music remained. Prior to the tumor surgery and treatment, Connie and I spent many glorious evenings with the tunes cranked, dancing our fool asses off. I feared that dancing was lost when my left side was effected by the tumor.

Over time, I slowly came to grips with the fact that I would never dance like I used to, BUT, I could dance in a new way! Because I tip over so easily, I found that planting my feet kept me stable enough to shake my groove thing with minimal risk and maximum dance feel.

That's what this “new normal” is all about. As easy as it would be to sit back and stop trying, it's just not in the cards for me. I didn't live through disco, punk rock, grunge, heavy metal, techno-pop and brain cancer just to sit around and watch life go by. It's not as easy as it used to be but...can I have this dance?