Bailamos!

There are many things to which I am immune--Brad Pitt's charms, for instance--but a pair of dark brown almond eyes attached to a curly-headed  woman certainly ain't one of 'em. All my momma has to do is bat her eyes and I melt faster than a popcicle in a Naw'leans summer. She knows this, which is precisely the reason why she's one (justifiably) spoiled momma. Least I can do, especially since she let me chill out in her womb for nine months and one week.

Anyhoo...These puppy eyes are the reason why, on an otherwise normal Saturday night, I found myself in a throng of 50-and-over people with hair Aquanetted to viking-helmet-meets-Imierda-Marcos absurdity. Quite an architectural marvel, really. My eyeballs were then treated to the delightful  gyrations of hips to the sounds of people who died long before I learned how to leave presents in my nappies. Y'all, never in my life have I seen such a vast array of sequined dresses outside a drag queen fashion convention or an arts and craft store. Add in the shoulder pads and it's a tribute to Falcon Crest, Dynasty, and Knots Landing. I halfway expected Joan von Ark and Joan Collins to storm in and engage in an all out cat fight. 

Likewise, I was amused to discover that while teenaged boys corner the market on hair gel, older gentlemen collectively keep the pomade business afloat. Even saw a couple of cheestastic Ace Ventura 'dos ;o). Ain't no recession for Alberto VO5, siree. And the cologne! Y'all, not even those charming Gulf Arabs are as enthusiastic with their dousing in Poison, Obsession, Drakkar Noir, Old Spice, or whatever discontinued/soon-to-be-discontinued bottled scent the members of the young at heart posse prefer.

Then there's the energy level.

They put me--a twenty-something, naturally peppy chick--to shame with their boundless grace on the dance floor. Samba, mambo, cha-cha, paso doble, tango...they did 'em all. Twists, lifts, jumps, shimmies, sways...They just kept getting grander and more dramatic as the hours wore on. Forget the raggaeton grinders or the scantily clad celebs on Dancing with the Stars; this is where the passion and the fun abound in limitless supply.Energizer bunnies, I tell ya!