Yesterday was a day of dog fur, drool, paw prints, and barking. I told Pam I'd take the dogs while she went shopping and I figured the distraction would allow me time to write. Any second Glamis is not on my lap is a good second.
I finally completed a batch of papers that have been sitting on my desk for a few weeks and I rewarded myself with a grant writing bonanza and the beginning of a conference proposal that needs much much work. I also got a good run in and a nice dinner out with friends.
The dinner out with friends, however, turned into dancing and I am still trying to wrap my head around the experience. Here was a live band playing music from the 70s and 80s, mostly Jackson 5 and Michael Jackson tunes, and an entourage of 60-somethings dressed up for the night grooving to the music. It sort of felt like a prom and the music reminded me of my younger days, but all the characters were retired and did a phenomenal job of dying their hair and squeezing into clothes they probably shouldn't have been wearing.
It occurred to me (because I got home by 10:30 p.m., I really am old). I tried to tell Abu and Lossine that one day whatever music they are listening to right now and whatever moves they are participating with in clubs and bars, will one day present itself to them with a bunch of people who sort of look like them, but that they'll think are way too old to be out dancing. This, then, will be the epiphany that these folks are all their age (or older) and that another generation has past. They will then have the opportunity to communicate to whoever is younger in their lives to say, "Oh, man, this is really weird."
Feathered hair. Feathered hair clips. Thin ties. Jean jackets. And really, really bad - I mean worse than Elaine on Seinfeld - dance moves. But these people were having a great time and were so happy reminiscing days that once were.
I just wanted to crawl into bed which is exactly what I did. It was a lot to take in - knowing that music you grew up with was replayed for the memories they represented, but then the performers (who are your peers) were much, much older than you remember. It was a lot to watch: hair jobs, toupees, corny moves, girth, and wrinkles. So many, so not young any more, trying to be...well, young. Wow. No one prepares you for such a Big Chill, not even the movie.