Rants, Raves, & Random Thoughts

Shameless self-promotion of my writing skills or lack there of.

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Where'd I put my cane?

I realize that I am really not that old, but at times I seem to feel every bit of my age and then some. I can remember a time when I couldn’t wait for the weekend (Yeah, I said weekend, but I am pretending for the sake of argument that I didn’t go out five or six nights a week). I would hit the clubs and bars, alternating between finding a good place to dance and a finding a really good live band. I have always been a sucker for live music, but sometimes the bands that I like to listen to, aren’t necessarily easy to dance to. At times, I would stay out all night, catch a few hours of sleep in the early morning, go play golf (or some other form of activity) and get ready to do it all again as soon as the sun went down.

At some point, I can remember exactly when, I began to cut the number of days back. I started spending more time concentrating on work. My son came along and next thing you know, I am only going out when he goes to stay the night with his grandmother. Oh, but when I do make a night on the town…I made it a night to remember (well, at least piece together bits of it as told by friends that witnessed the revelry).

Before long, I realize that either a) the lack of practice or b) my age was making the morning after such adventures almost unbearable. So the drinking and partying slowly dwindle as well. Oh, sure I still occasionally get a little carried away, but it only happens like once or twice a year; just enough to remind me why I don’t like to do that sort of thing anymore.

Sounds like a normal progression, right? Here’s where the problem comes into play. I still love to hear live music. My wife and I make plans (sometimes as much as a month in advance). The night finally arrives and we arrive at the club about an hour before the band starts (which incidentally is nearly the exact time that I normally go to bed). We watch the place slowly fill up and then become almost too crowded. I catch my wife trying to peek at her watch without me seeing her. I stifle a yawn and wonder why the band hasn’t started yet.

By 11 O’clock the band is finally in full swing. We are in luck they are actually playing a song that we both like to dance to. We wade out onto the dance floor, dodging elbows and lit cigarettes. Of course, at least half of the patrons are three sheets to the wind (I can tell, because I used to be one of those revelers). When I try to spin my wife, I inadvertently take a tiny step backwards and am rewarded with an elbow in the middle of the back. The next song seems to be even more popular and more people try to press into the dance floor. No one can do more than a little shoulder wiggle and the occasional hop up and down to the rhythm of the music, but they sure are having a good time. I wish I was enjoying it. We barely make it to the first band break before we decide it is time to call it a night.

Surely, I…we are not the only couple that feel this way. It’s not that we don’t enjoy going out; we just don’t like staying up till all hours of the night. Yeah, okay so maybe that does make me sound a little older than it should, but sometimes the truth hurts. I think the movers and shakers of Tulsa should open up a new hot spot for people like us. It would be a club scene with only minor variations. The band would start by 7 and wrap up by 11. There would be nothing allowed on the dance floor but shuffling feet (no smokes or drinks). There would be plenty of room between the tables to help less the likelihood that someone elbows you as they walk past.

That’s all I want. I don’t think that it is too much to ask. I just want my random night out to be an enjoyable experience.

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