I don't belong to anything, not really.
I've joined clubs and I take part in things but somehow, I always seem to end up doing something of a singular nature.
Saturday last,I did something for the first time. I attended an all nighter, a Northern Soul all nighter with my wife and her work friends. I don't particularly have any affection for the music and to be honest I didn't really know what to expect. For starters, I was with people I don't really know well. Always a difficult one that but you have to go with it. So I donned my cup of funk, slipped on my poets jacket and hit the town.
What I got was one of my best nights ever. I found myself in the midst of people who, although follow a certain type of music that I don't, are as it turns out my natural companions in respect to attitudes to dancing. I've never been comfortable with the "expected" type of dancing that's present at weddings and any other number of gatherings where most people let themselves go in that traditional and half arsed way we do things."Look, I'm really enjoying myself dancing to YMCA" yes. You wouldn't be enjoying it if you were living in one . Sorry, That's probably unfair but it always feels that way to me.This was the complete opposite to the forced and cumbersome, this was natural, from the inside to the out.
I'm not about to become an Northern Soul fan, I don't feel that braces , cheesecloth and, quite frankly, the most amazing flared trousers I've ever come across, are really my thing. What I loved about it was their passion. When you're surrounded by people who obviously love something and it's a good love, then you get caught up in it. Add to that the fact that it's all about dancing how I dance, for yourself, how you want to and not for the faint of heart. My friends I was in like Flynn. I adjusted the angle to my cap funk to cool, strode on to the floor of The King's Hall and simply went for it. I spun, slid, twirled, raised my hands and closed my eyes. Safe in the knowledge that I would be accepted by those around me, I surrendered to the aroma of talc , delighted in the sartorial use of the side burn and let go to the subtle undertones of both jazz and funk , hidden in the back ground of the Northern Soul classics that I didn't even know. A part of me had come home. Add to this this purchase of fine a burger from the catering provided and the sight of gentlemen younger than myself relaxing at what would be their half time with a well earned cup of tea. It was as my friend Ben would put it, completely bad ass.
Unfortunately the all nighter didn't last all night, not for us. Weariness, vodka and coke and the desire for bed and my own cup of tea eventually won out . At about 1.30 we were done for so made our way out in to the frosty star filled night to await our chariot home. But inside , the night continued.More and more arrived with overnight bags no doubt filled with fresh vests, talc and amazing flares. They were set on the 7 am finish. I salute them,each and everyone.
The feeling I got from the entire night was so different from the one I get during my day to day struggle between wanting to help people and having to put up with ever increasing levels of bullshit. I'm tired of the thing my job has become, seen it change from a decent occupation in to a race for "quality" and "targets". Should anyone be looking for a man who wants to help others realise their potential without the want to make him act almost like a salesman, I'm waiting for your call.
For the briefest time whilst with my unknown companions,masters of the spin and high kick, I felt something good. I felt alive. And for that, although they will never know it,they have won a place in my heart.
I've joined clubs and I take part in things but somehow, I always seem to end up doing something of a singular nature.
Saturday last,I did something for the first time. I attended an all nighter, a Northern Soul all nighter with my wife and her work friends. I don't particularly have any affection for the music and to be honest I didn't really know what to expect. For starters, I was with people I don't really know well. Always a difficult one that but you have to go with it. So I donned my cup of funk, slipped on my poets jacket and hit the town.
What I got was one of my best nights ever. I found myself in the midst of people who, although follow a certain type of music that I don't, are as it turns out my natural companions in respect to attitudes to dancing. I've never been comfortable with the "expected" type of dancing that's present at weddings and any other number of gatherings where most people let themselves go in that traditional and half arsed way we do things."Look, I'm really enjoying myself dancing to YMCA" yes. You wouldn't be enjoying it if you were living in one . Sorry, That's probably unfair but it always feels that way to me.This was the complete opposite to the forced and cumbersome, this was natural, from the inside to the out.
I'm not about to become an Northern Soul fan, I don't feel that braces , cheesecloth and, quite frankly, the most amazing flared trousers I've ever come across, are really my thing. What I loved about it was their passion. When you're surrounded by people who obviously love something and it's a good love, then you get caught up in it. Add to that the fact that it's all about dancing how I dance, for yourself, how you want to and not for the faint of heart. My friends I was in like Flynn. I adjusted the angle to my cap funk to cool, strode on to the floor of The King's Hall and simply went for it. I spun, slid, twirled, raised my hands and closed my eyes. Safe in the knowledge that I would be accepted by those around me, I surrendered to the aroma of talc , delighted in the sartorial use of the side burn and let go to the subtle undertones of both jazz and funk , hidden in the back ground of the Northern Soul classics that I didn't even know. A part of me had come home. Add to this this purchase of fine a burger from the catering provided and the sight of gentlemen younger than myself relaxing at what would be their half time with a well earned cup of tea. It was as my friend Ben would put it, completely bad ass.
Unfortunately the all nighter didn't last all night, not for us. Weariness, vodka and coke and the desire for bed and my own cup of tea eventually won out . At about 1.30 we were done for so made our way out in to the frosty star filled night to await our chariot home. But inside , the night continued.More and more arrived with overnight bags no doubt filled with fresh vests, talc and amazing flares. They were set on the 7 am finish. I salute them,each and everyone.
The feeling I got from the entire night was so different from the one I get during my day to day struggle between wanting to help people and having to put up with ever increasing levels of bullshit. I'm tired of the thing my job has become, seen it change from a decent occupation in to a race for "quality" and "targets". Should anyone be looking for a man who wants to help others realise their potential without the want to make him act almost like a salesman, I'm waiting for your call.
For the briefest time whilst with my unknown companions,masters of the spin and high kick, I felt something good. I felt alive. And for that, although they will never know it,they have won a place in my heart.
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