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.