50 and Fabulous

My high school classmates are having a party in October to celebrate turning 50 years old. (We are a group of two classes, so my class had to wait for the punks to turn 50...alas, I just turned 51.)   This is madness to me but everyone who is going is so excited; white, straight teeth, glistening smiles....such young-looking Facebook photos of all the alumni...chattering about yet another gathering of the Arundel faithful.  I am really not one of these faithful ones, but a fraud just horning my way in....
(horning, because I moved here from Minnesota in my Junior year and graduated early, with few friends in high school, really)

Two years ago I added my maiden name (adoptive family) to my FB page and, POOF, I re-connected with many high school friends.  It was fun!  I even went to my class reunion and had a grand time with only 75% social anxiety, paranoia, fear, self-consciousness, dread.  Friends I hadn't seen in 30 years thought I was normal,  I could have skated...)  Since then a hard-core group has been meeting throughout the years and having a fabulous time.  I never go.  Most days I am 100% social anxiety, paranoia, blah, blah, blah.

So now, the beautiful high school/Facebook people will gather, smile, hug, smooch, laugh,  drink....but no dancing.  I wonder why the no dancing thing?  We were a pretty cool group, the class of '78.  We liked Led Zeppelin, our bell bottoms covering our shoes, getting high (oops, some of us) before school, and we did NOT dance.  We. Were. Cool.

I think we don't dance now, because the men would have to admit that the One whom they once thought unworthy to gaze upon is now a pulp fiction, flying Hero.  That the "girl group" is THE key to a girl's heart.  I think the boys don't want to dance, because, their wives are at home and they promised they wouldn't.  Or maybe the beautiful high school men people deep down are afraid they will dance like dorks.  Well, maybe the class of '79.

You should be dancin', yeah.

 for shari g.