Dust Off Those "come Foxtrot Me" Heels......

Here's a question:


When is the cut off age for dancing?


When…is it time to put away the "soft shuffle" shoes, those "Come Foxtrot Me" heels, or even your old 70s "Boogie Fever" boots?


The short answer:  Never!


The man of the manor and I, together with a few friends, decided to do the ritualistic stroll down to the RSL on Wednesday, being ANZAC day and because I had a hunch there would be some very "hush hush" Two-Up happening somewhere in the general vicinity.


I have always tried to make a habit of visiting the RSL on Anzac day, perhaps driven somewhat, by guilt of never getting up early enough to participate in the dawn services. I don't do "early morning" that well.


Some people have the knack for getting up early and greeting the day (See Category A.)


CATEGORY A:



I tend to belong more to Category B…..



So, I have, over the years, tried to make up for this, by making sure I go and have a few beers and a couple of yarns with the diggers at the RSL.


And believe me, these guys ROCK.


For men who look, sometimes, so frail, they can drink me under the table (and I have to say, that's a pretty mean feat).


But I love these gents; they are a combination of genuine class and bad boy all rolled into one.


So as the conversation got a little more lively, and the band (called "Dead Ferrets Do Bounce" if I recall) kicked into gear, I ran my eyes over the crowd and one particular individual caught my eye.


A lady who was swearing like a Marine near the bar.


She would have been at least 96.…..in the shade. Standing at five foot nothing,  this interesting nonagenarian was dressed in a (I kid you not) bright mandarin-colored pantsuit, bottle of chardonnay in one hand and a cigarette dangling out of her mouth (burning dangerously close to her bright blue-rinse hair).


Unable to help myself, I sauntered over and offered to save her from incinerating herself. Turns out, her name was Alice  from "Bauple" who was down visiting her niece in Main Beach.


Alice proceeded to regale me with tales of her various lovers (including one particularly interesting tryst with a dentist and his guinea fowl) and her legendary Harley rides across the Darling Downs.


Then, in the middle of a story about her long lost cousin who lived in Launceston who had a little kinky thing for very hirsute men with clean fingernails, and more importantly, clean hankies, Alice stopped abruptly.


"Dead Ferrets Do Bounce" had started up "Eagle Rock".


Well….


There was no stopping Alice.


She flung her empty Chardie bottle (well, empty, with the exception of several Winfield Red butts floating around in the bottom) to the wind and stormed the dance floor.


She boogied, she shimmied, she practically lap-danced the young 85 year old digger sitting quietly, sipping his beer near the stage. This woman let go of ALL her inhibitions and let her blue hair down in a way that I had not seen since…well, never actually.


I got to thinking about when I had last let it all "hang out" and tripped the "grotty nightclub floor fantastic" and the answer was, not since "Chumbawumba "was in the top 10.I sometimes think, that all the little, crappy things that life spits out overshadows the crazy, beautiful elements that make it all worthwhile in the end.


I will spend 3 hours reading and nit-picking through a speech that Tony (Kiss Me but Don't Fuck Me - I'm Catholic!!) Abbott has pontificated, and then waste the next four hours ranting to the man of the manor about it.  I need to get out more!


So, as Alice wound up her solo (giving, what I could only discern as a very drunken tongue-kiss to the surprised, and somewhat disorientated digger near the stage) I vowed to myself, that next time I am out an about, I will dig out my dancing shoes and take to the floor -self-consciousness be damned.


That is…if there are others dancing..


..and they aren't playing "Jackson Five"…


…and I have had at least 4 glasses of strong plonk……


Bottom line:


Life is short, do what feels good.


"Love like you've never been hurt"


"Sing Like No one is listening"


"Dance Like Like no one is watching"


Dance…like, well…dance like Alice…once in awhile….

About the Author:

Kylie is a well travelled free-lance writer who has been published in several magazines in Australia and the United States including "Honestly Woman" and "Third Coast Marketing".

Come on in..sit down and enjoy...bring your prescription drugs if necessary.

Article Source: ArticlesBase.com - Dust Off Those "come Foxtrot Me" Heels......

Anzac Day Dancing Free Wild