livingoutloud

Last night was so lovely. My favorite coupled friends took me to a big band jazz event with dancers, and restored cars, and two wonderful bands. I had a blast.

When they played Glenn Miller's 'In the Mood' I clearly remembered dancing with my father in the Smithfield community house. My parents were part of a Shag dancing club when I was younger. My mother had a tacky sense of style and therefore headed the event decorating committee. My father was a loud friendly drunk and therefore was often the life of these parties. I usually sat in some safe corner, surrounded by coloring books and Barbie dolls with homemade clothes, while the adults drank and danced and generally made a racket. Halfway through the night, my father would always come fetch me from my hiding spot and throw me on his shoulders. Id ride out to the middle of the floor, where hed dance with me like that for hours.

After the music, we went to an overly nice restaurant for dessert and drinks. I had a ridiculously good glass of wine and we three talked about knives and bridges and Scottish music until well past our welcome. It was lovely. I have beautiful friends.