What Is A Groove and Why Do I Need One?
posted October 28, 2009 - 4:08pmI guess I need my groove back. I'm not quite sure where it is, or what it is for that matter, but I've been told I should get it back. I'm thinking it might pop up at one of the two weddings I am attending in the not too distant future, which is why I have been secretly practicing my dance steps in front of my bedroom mirror.
I took some old records off the shelf (God, I love Bob Seger) and started gyrating. I was like a slinky going down a long staircase. Once one part of me got jiggling, the rest just followed along. I was going at a pretty good clip when an excruciating pain stabbed me in the chest, so I staggered over to my chair and had a cigarette. I must have just pulled a muscle while waving my arms around. So much for Rod Stewart.
My powers of recovery kicked in by the time I saw Elvis. No formal event is ever complete without a little Elvis tune forcing the toe tappers to the dance floor. Even the staid old farts join in, conservatively at first. Then the contest begins between the banker and the priest, each attempting a particularly difficult move, and usually resulting in one or both landing on the floor or in the cake. The younger crowd separates when someone over sixty is overcome by lost youth and tries to break dance, to the horror of their children. Elvis it is!
As "Jailhouse Rock" blared from my bedroom, I bee bopped my brains out with my imaginary partner until he got tangled up in my flying feet and wiped out my collection of "Precious Moments". How prophetic. An image of the ex rolling me across his back and sliding me between his legs and into the band convinced me that a precious moment becoming a You Tube video was not in anyone's best interest.
I flipped open zippy, turned on the television, and collapsed into a chair. I thought if I continued on my exercise frenzy I might have to have my dress altered. A "Family Jewels" rerun caught my eye as Gene Simmons, joking with his kids, broke into "Rock and Roll All Night". Scenes of "Kiss" concerts filled the screen as the answer came to me. I could work with this! I dragged my chair over to the telly and studied the roaring crowds. All they were doing was waving their arms back and forth, clapping in rhythm, with an occasional fist dance in the air. The beauty of it being, hell, I could do that sitting down and not even work up a sweat.
I spent the next hour perfecting my rhythm and making up my own fist dances, adding a few fancy foot taps and slides. Anyone who has remained seated in a chair continuously moving their legs to music will understand when I say I suffered crippling muscle cramps and a severe case of RLS for the next week. I was beginning to wonder if I ever would find my groove, let alone get it back.
I was putting my music collection back on the shelf when I stumbled upon an old photo album I hadn't seen in years. Thumbing through it, I came across pictures of my parents, who all my friends thought of as "cool". Thinking of my sister's wedding and mine, I remember my parents laughing, crying, holding hands, and dancing. They certainly had their own "groove" so to speak. Maybe the trick was not so much getting something back, which exists only in one's time sanitized memory, but continuing in your own groove in life, reveling in every second of it.
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Comments
You should write a book!
You should write a book!
I don't think...
I don't think I ever had a groove. I can't remember anyone saying that I did or that I was cool or even pretty cool not even cool of an old guy nothing to make me think that I might possibly have one. So I guess I'll just keep doing my own thing in my own way. I am usually pretty happy like that, and I think that is what matters most anyway.
Johnny Yuma
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