Monday, June 22, 2009

Polka: Part One

Sometimes it just takes a moment alone with a polka band to unwind. Jerry Voelker and the Jolly Gents played at half mast for thirty odd retired folks passing a humid afternoon out of the sun. We all sat under a large white tent which probably could have housed 1,000 persons. The difference in actual attendance made quite the effect. The band was seated on a one step riser above the cement floor with a ridiculously large Bud Light banner suspended above. Who the heck at Budweiser decided it was a great marketing effort to sponsor St Jude's annual church fair? Beyond me.

I was parked on a lousy metal folding chair four extended card tables back from the stage. I had a twenty seater all to myself. Besides the occasional rubbernecking in my direction, and one man's mosey to the empty portable bar for a cup of beer, it was a very still and quiet event. No one seemed interested in the person seated next to them; wife, husband, guy he used to work with at the fire house or neighbor. I thought about getting a beer for myself, but decided against it when I thought it could disappoint the grammas and grampas seated around me. It was only Noon.

When the band went into a waltz a couple got up to dance. I would have guessed they had been married for nearly sixty years. The silver haired slim jim towered above his wife. She was what my gramma would call 'chunky' and wore a matching navy blue short sleeved top and slacks fitted just a little too small. She died her hair dark brown and probably had it permed and cut the day before; it had that 'tight' look. They managed to make their way across the available floor space, twirls and all; she with very concentrated and deliberate small steps from the knee down, and him with a half shuffle half skate. Even when the music ended twenty minutes later they continued to dance side by side, hand in hand, all the way to their seats.

It reminded me of how important it is to connect with people you enjoy to be around. I can't say I thought about much else.

No comments:

Post a Comment