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I see lovers or soon-to-be lovers and wannabe lovers if they had their druthers. I see love. I see friendships. I see the sky. The infinite sky. I wonder why. I want some coconut pie. I hear music. I see drinks being ordered, sips being taken, thirsts being quenched, bottles being tipped. I see the crowd getting bigger and more boisterous, I see waitresses and bartenders and families enjoying dinner together. I see jet skis and boat docks, and I see A DJ warming up the crowd. I see him turning up the volume. I see dancing, swaying, faces anticipating something. I see nothing that resembles work and stress and bosses, and filling out a tax form. I see 12 pink lights going on up on stage. I see more dancing. I see it being hard to resist dancing. I see myself dancing before too long. I dance before too long, a swaying hip gyration.
I see holding hands and shorts being worn and long skirts and short skirts and baseball caps and flip flops and sandals and sneakers. I see the urge to unleash. I see lightweight clothing. I see selfie-taking. I see straws in cups. I see anticipation. I see freedom seeking. I see America and Delaware, and beach towns everywhere. I see escapism and tan skin. I see commitment and steadfastness, and honest fandom. I see the DJ rocking a New York Yankees baseball cap. I see the start of something.
I see the lead singer of Love Seed Mama Jump roaming around on stage. I see him prowling like a lion. I see his bald head. I see the drummer testing the drums, tapping a bit.
I see the lead singer in a faded Clark Kent Superman t-shirt. I see the big S on his chest.
I see him stare at the gawking twenty-something’s, microphone clasped, when he says with East Coast abruptness: “We ain’t f——— around tonight.” Hear the crowd roar. I see the band blare out “American Girl” by the rock legends, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.
I see the crowd lose control of itself.
I see urges and yearnings and desires and wants. I see uninhibitedness and unshackledness and unspoken conversations and unfixed eye movements.
I see young men and women with movements in their hips and uncontrollable feet and unstoppable singing and a belief that life is bounteous and beautiful and badass. I see a place like no udder, the Rusty Rudder, in an oasis we all call Just Dewey It.
Author Profile
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Sammy Sportface, a sports blogger, galvanizes, inspires, and amuses The Baby Boomer Brotherhood. And you can learn about his vision and join this group's Facebook page here:
Sammy Sportface Has a Vision -- Check It Out
Sammy Sportface -- The Baby Boomer Brotherhood Blog -- Facebook Page
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