still-sound 77. Soul

Last Saturday I went dancing with my friends Carlos and Laura.  Carlos' enthusiasm for a night at the Echo called Funky Soul instigated our outing.  I don't remember the last time I went dancing.


We arrived at the venue shortly after its opening at 10 pm.  The place was relatively empty.  We watched from a banquette in the corner as people filtered in.  They entered the club and upon reaching the dancefloor immediately started to dance.  Not a shy rev-up with a drink in hand, these people were pulling shapes - throwing legs and arms with complete abandon.  We spotted a guy by the bar whose facial hair and outfit would qualify him as an honorary member of Yellow Submarine era Beatles.  He stood by a girl wearing white tights and a Jan Brady style white minismock.  I admitted to Carlos and Laura that I wish I had worn white jeans.

It didn't take long for us to spring into action.  We chose a spot by the stage and started dancing.  We didn't stop until sweaty.

Throughout the night, clips of Soul Train graced a screen placed on the stage.  We watched as couples dressed in their craziest clobber worked their way down the Soul Train Line.  At one point a very tall, thin man appeared on the screen wearing bell-bottoms, sweater vest, dress shirt and a bow-tie that was nearly as wide as his shoulders.  A massive halo of hair adorned his head.  He dropped to the ground in rhythm and sprung up effortlessly with a smile stretched across his face.

I saw a man at the other end of the club, again, with a Yellow Submarine look - except he had a slight air of Lemmy from Motorhead.  I leaned into Laura's ear and said "Look, another Yellow Submarine Guy!"  I realized later that it was actually the same guy.