Friday, March 13, 2009

Cha Cha Heels

Way back when I was young, I looked forward to going to the clubs on weekends. I always loved the thundering bass and all the lighting effects. I could have a good time regardless, just taking in the sights and sounds. The energy was always amazing, especially for someone from a dry county. My friends and I would always gather some place before heading out, whether a restaurant or some one's home. Everyone was excited about what was to come. Choosing the right outfit, the right shoes and making sure there was enough product in the hair to keep it in place all night was the modus operanti. We would chatter on about who would was gonna get lucky, who had their eye on who from the previous week. It was a hoot! I enjoyed those many nights together in our own little circle that seemed to have a life of it's own. There are so many memories, so many good times. It all seems like a life time ago, almost like somebody else life. It stayed that way for years. Then slowly as we matured, we went out less together. Our schedules just didn't support it anymore or someone was seeing someone or out of town. But special occasions like birthdays or holidays, everyone would gather again. It was like we had never been apart. Slowly, AIDS began to creep into our circle of friends. Thankfully, if that is possible, their departures were spaced out. It made coping and adjusting a little easier. I remember thinking after I attended the funeral of my best friend, that a group of 10 of us was now down to just 4. Countless others were gone from the bar scene as well, those we had come to expect to see dancing every weekend at the club, or had the short conversation with, or a spontaneous after hours party somewhere. The crowd dwindled and upon my last visit to a club many years ago, there wasn't a face I recognized. The few of the inner circle that remain, have found other outlets or have focused on their careers or relationships. I do see them out and about every few years. We reminiscent and give each other hugs. It isn't the same as it once was. There is no way it could be. We still have our memories and our stories.


Lemuel said...

Although the content of my memories and stories would differ from yours, the theme of each would not be that different in essence. There is for me both pain and pleasure in recalling them.

Recently I "rediscovered" the old Babs' song "The Way We Were". I know. I know. It was played back then until it made us all sick, until we though we'd scream if we heard it one more time. But I now listen again and hear its melancholy truth.

Ray's Cowboy said...

fully agree. I remember pre-Aids days. and I remember my freinds who have left this world. The good ole days.

Dream Weaver Hit Counter
Hughes Net Satellite Internet