On Tuesday mornings the television news program
plays music from the 1960’s before the commercial breaks. Every time I hear the
music, I look up from reading the newspaper, push the dining room chair back,
stand up and begin moving to the music.
I dance around the dining room table and into the
kitchen. I wiggle my behind and shake my shoulders while I raise my arms over
my head and sway back and forth from one side of my body to the other. I prance
around on tippy toe and stop to kick my legs in the same direction as my arms.
Although I start dancing with the musical introduction
into the commercial break, I continue through the advertising commercials, and
into the next news segment, as I sing the old songs and make the long-time rhythmic
moves to the beat of the music that I replay in my memory. I dance the “Pony”,
the “Twist”, “Line Dances”, the “Bump”, depending on the musical inspiration.
I beam from ear to ear, smiling and remembering
what it feels like to be back in college listening to the songs for the first
time. I start to remember all my favorite dance partners and the great times
dancing into the night.
When I realize that the commercials have ended and
the next news segment has begun, I sit back down on the dining room chair, pick
up the newspaper and get back to acting as if I am a mature person starting out
her morning.
