DISCO DIVA

Some of my fondest memories as a child are of my mother's radio. I loved being picked up by my mother while she was cleaning the house and dancing around with me as Abba thumped out a sweet disco tune from my mom's huge Sony speakers. We had to be careful and could not run through the house when my mom was listening to music or we'd scratch her records.

I remember when she bought that stereo. It was so futuristic with its sexy metallic and black plastic knobs, star trek quality blinking lights and glass cabinet on wheels. She kept a rainbow of records in the bottom and a plant on each speaker which at the time were as tall as I was. I loved sitting in front of her stereo and watch the lights blink in rhythm with the music.

 Sometimes, when we had been good, mom would put the Bambi soundtrack on and we would lay on the carpet and listen to it. To this day, I have never actually seen Bambi, but can quote it all day long. The record itself, was the coolest thing I had ever seen. It was a clear record, with pictures of Bambi and friends printed on each side. Just looking at the record was as magical as listening to it.

I tried to watch the movie when I was about 15, but I lost interest fast and couldn't finish it. It just wasn't as good as what I had stirred up in my mind. I felt the same way when I heard Carol King sing Tapestry. I thought, "How dare she ruin that song." Even though Ms. king has written and recorded the song, after a lifetime of hearing my mother sing it when she was cleaning house, driving or putting us to sleep, Ms. King just didn't hold a candle to my mother.

My mother was a disco diva. On the weekends she would get dressed up in the most beautiful gold and cream colored dresses, cover herself in gold dust, dab perfume on and dance the night away. I loved to watch her get ready and dreamed of wearing makeup and pretty dresses like her when I grew up.

I remember watching my mothers long elegant hands apply her makeup and thought I'll know I’m a grown up when my hands look like hers. I’m 33 and my hands have never looked like hers.

When the disco days ended my mothers music choice gave way to Air Supply, TOTO, Black Sabbath, Fleetwood Mac, Journey, ELO, Elton John, genesis, REO Speedwagon, Supertramp and Olivia Newton John. She wore leg warmers and danced like a maniac in our living room.  She could do ballet to the soundtrack of Xanadu or get down with Michae Jackson’s thriller. She could rock us to sleep to Kenny Rogers, clean the house to TOTO, make dinner to Supertramp and drive to the store to Sting, whom if memory serves me correctly she had a huge crush on. (Who didn't especially when he played in the movie Dune.) She still broke out with the Abba though, and those were the best days.

I did not inherit the ability to dance though when I was younger I was very good at gymnastics and track and softball. Dancing has just never been my thing. I believe it is due in part to having dyscalculia.

When I say I can't dance, I sincerely mean that. I flail around in short spastic movements that frighten people an give children nightmares. I am clumsy, awkward and dangerous. I once worked as a cocktail waitress and my co workers begged me to come out and dance with them on my breaks. I did once...and they never asked again. Though they did tease me about my "but dance". Apparently I do something like belly dancing only with my butt instead. I can however head bang and spin my hair around in wild circles like I am possessed. I believe that is a little something I picked up from the Conan movies.

My mother on the other hand, can dance. She is tall, slender and graceful as a ballerina. I did not inherit any of that from her. I tried. In middle school a special dance team came to our school called "All That Jazz". I was so excited when I heard they were coming. I thought..."This is it, I am finally going to learn to dance like all the popular girls."

Three pretty young women came into our cafeteria carrying a boom-box. They looked so cool  with their ten foot tall sculptured bangs and color coordinated tube socks in Keds. I wanted to be them. My socks never matched and I could never master the bush bangs of the 80's. They had chosen Janet Jackson's Rhythm Nation for us to get down to and I was so excited because I loved that song and always dreamed of dancing like Janet Jackson. At this time, I did not know I could not dance. I was still so hopeful!  They started going through the moves step by step, but by the time they were on step four, I was still on step two, trying to make it look "fluid and concise". Needless to say, it took me a while to master all the steps and I stood out like a sore thumb. When it became clear to me, I was slower than the other girls, the next day I made sure I was hidden somewhere in the middle of the row behind all the tall girls.

 Still, when the dance instructors walked through the shiny, brightly colored rows of giggling girls busting out to Rhythm Nation I felt shame. Their eyes literally skipped right over me and I felt the sting. Still I tried. I really did. I went home and practiced in my room for hours. I practiced until my legs felt like jello.

By the end of the two weeks they were there, I had come to the realization that I just was not a dancer. Some of the girls from class had signed on with them and would get to go weekly. Some of those girls grew up to be strippers. I'm so glad they found their calling in that 2 week shame-fest.

I have accepted that I can not dance. But, I am gifted with music. Something my mom's disco days inadvertantly passed on to me.

Now, while I can not dance, my daughter on the other hand was only 10 years old when she had memorized the entire thriller dance to my delight. I didn’t even know she had ever heard that song. I regret that when she was younger I could not afford to get her into dancing lessons where she could flourish. I do hope that someday when she is a mother she can dance with her children to oldies like Rhiana and Gaga. I am happy that my Mothers gift was passed down to my only daughter, I gave her the gift of music and art and red hair.