The Last Dance...

It’s sort of odd to

hear a Disco song

of a bygone era

rattling through ones

mind on a milestone day

that is also about to become

part of a bygone era.

Disco and my Thirties

are over.  Disco has been

dead for a long time,

and it died in my lifetime,

which is interesting in and

of itself. I lived with Disco?

There’s still a few songs I guiltily enjoy.

My Thirties however, I’m glad

they’re ending.  They have been

exceedingly rambunctious, annoying,

terrifying, depressing, joyful, hilarious,

embarrassing, disappointing, mournful,

melancholy, morose, anxiety ridden, and

at times, even a little sexy.

Just like Disco.

With a lot less drugs.

Or Gold Lame pants.

My Thirties, at times, did have

a pretty good beat, something you

could dance to, but I think it was more

about learning the dance steps than it

was about the dancing.

And, I like dancing.

But I like learning more.

So Donna Summer, you go ahead and

play your song in my head, I can take it:

“So let's dance, the last dance
Let's dance, the last dance

Let's dance this last dance tonight…”

Groovy.