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, the last dance
Let's dance this last dance tonight…”
Groovy.