The lights go dim.

No, that isn't a comment on my brain power, it's in reference to my dancing. The lessons are over and now I must take my new "skill" and apply to my life. How am I going to do that you might ask? No idea. I have no plans to hit the local clubs so I can foxtrot around the 20 something year olds, although that would be hilarious to have on tape. OK, just dated myself with the "tape" comment. Do they even make recorders that record on tape? If they do, I'm guessing you can pick one up for a few bucks and the tapes are free, if you can find them. Maybe I could try out my east coast swing to a little techno music after a few hits of LSD and a glow necklace. Wait, I don't do drugs and the pretty lights would only distract me. Maybe I could go to the place I saw on the news the other night. It's a YMCA in Boone, about an hour from my house, where a little old man has organized and run a sort of dance club, every Thursday night, for the past several years. They did a story on it and the guy said, the first night he set this up, it was him and 8 ladies. This is a smart man. Now there is a regular group, looked to be 20 or so people, and they turned it into a potluck. I think the older couples would be pissed at the "young kid" crashing their dance, and might even try to take my girl, so maybe I should stay clear. Plus a belly full of potluck and I might have a hard time dancing around. I'm not big on potlucks anyway. You never know what people put in their dishes, kind of freaks me out. Getting back to the use of my skill, I guess it will only come in handy at weddings, which I do have one to go to this spring. Maybe I should practice every night from now until then, so I don't hurt anyone.

I was driving home from work today and listening to a Christian station on the radio, when what song came on, but a re-make of I'll Fly Away. Man that brought back memories of my grandmothers house when I was a kid. She always had the hardcore Christian station on, the one that preached fire and brimstone at 2pm on a Tuesday. The music back then sounded like it was right out of the little country church my grandparents went to, and some of my family still attends. The music wasn't as polished as it is today, but the people singing it meant what they were singing, you could tell, and that made it sound better than it actually was. At the numerous funerals I attended in Tennessee for my family members, there was a choir from this little church that would sing, behind a screen so you couldn't see them. Again, not always the prettiest voices you ever heard, but the songs sound great. My favorite, which has been sung at every funeral I have been to, is Amazing Grace. I can't hear the song now without getting choked up, let alone sing it. Hearing I'll Fly Away today, took me back to a time when I didn't have any bills, or responsibilities or any idea of how good I had it. I spent a lot of my summers as a kid down in TN at my grandparents house. My brother and I got to run up and down the mountain across the road from their house, following pig trails cut into the dirt. We used tobacco sticks as horses and hay bale string as the bridles. We played in the creek, probably filled with pig piss and God knows what else, but still fun all the same. I tell the boys about chasing pigs and playing in the hay loft and they think my story about my brother and I trapping the baby pigs in the barn and then them ripping the barn door off when they tried to escape, is like a story in a book. They want me to tell it over and over again. It's funny how things trigger your memories. I know that not all triggered memories are good, but I can tell you that today, I had an extra smile on and said a little thank you prayer to my grandparents, for being fantastic people and for giving me a lifetime of good memories, that I now get to share with my kids. May God rest their souls.