Dance Every Day

I was on the way home from some adventure with Pardner Jones (not a real name).

Conversation went into a lull, so I popped a Warren Zevon cassette into the tape player of my old Toyota P.up. You know old WZ, "Send lawyers, guns and money..." [click link for the song]. Pardner kind of wakes up, says "What the hell is this?" with an obvious air of disdain. OK, I thought, it is a little rough (it was WZ's hard rock version, not the acoustic). So I pop in a little Neil Young, "After the Gold Rush" [click link for song]. He asks, "Why do you need that noise?" Excuse me? "That noise." Don't you listen to music? "Nope." I think there's couple of Mozart piano sonata tapes in the glove box. "No thanks."

Pardner is one of the few people I've ever met who doesn't listen to music. Or even like it, apparently. This wouldn't be so bad, I guess, but as I got to know him better I realized he also gets nothing out of painting, sculpture, literature, or other forms of art. Hmmmm....

We quit hunting together a short while after that. Not over the art thing, though. Just don't get me started about "kiss & tell" hunters and anglers--the kind of people you take to a special place, and the next week they are back with three new "friends."

Recently, Pardner weighed in on a certain friend. Seems he was suspicious over her dancing. He wrote, "She dances every day, she told me. Every day!" Hmmmm....

I'm happy to say the woman is still dancing and happy for it.

So here's to those who dance, sing, paint, read literature or write every day. Every day! As I heard in a song once, "Long may you run."

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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or a used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.