Day Five,

I was up early. Today I was going to dance with Dolly Parton. I showered and shaved. I patted on my best foo foo ,so I would smell good, and headed for the location the Beer Belly had given me. It was the basement of a Catholic Church. It was near where I was staying. Marjory Main greeted me at the door. Inside was a good mix of people my age. I didn’t see the 300 pounder. The three instructors were beautiful ladies who looked like retired Las Vegas show girls. They were wrinkled but in good shape. They called our group to attention. We were standing in ranks like soldiers on a drill field ready for a physical training exercise.

Line dancing is pretty cool but I didn’t realize how strenuous it can be. Kathy our instructress gave me direction on a few basic steps. I was standing there like a draft horse among a herd of gazelles when the music started. It was like jogging in place. I was immediately a step behind everyone. They would be facing north and I would be facing south. They would be doing a crossover step and I would be doing a hip hop step. I thought that first song would never end. When it did, the room got quiet except for my last two clunk stomp steps, which brought me to a standstill facing the thirty other dancers. They were all smiling, but they were kind. They clapped their hands and offered encouragement. The session lasted an hour. It was tough work. When I left my ass was dragging. I went to Lisa’s house and took a nap. All in all it was a fun time. Dolly Parton didn’t show up but I did meet some nice ladies. I would be leaving for Tunica soon but I would be back for another lesson on my return from the western swing of my trip. I am looking forward to it.

The rest of the day was spent paying my bills, and doing a little shopping. Setting up an on-line bill paying process can be frustrating. I brought along some old paid up bills so I would have addresses and phone numbers in case something went wrong. It went wrong with the first call. My biggest expense is for propane heating gas. I wanted to be sure I had a delivery so my pipes wouldn’t freeze up. I called the number on the bill. The phone rang and rang, but no answer. It was around noon time so I figured they were out to lunch. I called later and again got no answer. All I got was some dumbbell saying leave a message. I got mad and started complaining to my daughter about how casual northern people were about paying attention to business. I tried a third time and got that dummy who said to call back later. Lisa said, “Let me try.”

She took the bill and called the number. She started to smile when she got no answer. She handed me the bill and the phone so I could listen to that guy on the answering machine. “Daddy, I’ve known this guy all my life. It’s you. Try the number at the bottom of the bill.” I had been unknowingly calling myself on the phone. It’s tough getting old. I told Lisa it must have been either the hard work I did at dance class or the lingering effects of the Tequila I drank at the Empress Casino. She just smiled and gave me a hug. “I love you daddy, “she said.

Day Four

I hit the jackpot on day four. I went down to the Mid River Mall at 7AM to take my 40 minute walk. I am trying to lose a few pounds before I head for Florida and West Texas. I am stomping determinedly through the mall when I hear music. It is country western music. Waylon and Willie are letting loose with some heavy duty cowboy stuff. I am on the second floor, so I move to the center of the building and stop at a balcony overlooking an open area full of old codgers. There is an even mix of men and women. They are spaced out from each other and they are line dancing. A beer belly wearing a cowboy hat and cowboy boots is facing them giving direction. They are exercising like I am, but they are having fun. As the tunes change, some of them start dancing together. I can hardly believe it. It isn’t even 9AM and there is a party going on in the mall. Old Captain Bob better hustle on down and introduce himself. A couple of those gals are pretty good looking. I look for a stairway. The nearest one is at the far end of the mall. Moving quickly as I can, I head for those far-away stairs. I am flushed and puffing when I get to the far end of the mall. I can hear Tanya Tucker belting out a juicy love song. At the stairwell is a sign, “please use alternate stairs, site under construction.” It is a good half mile to the other end of the mall. The elevators and escalators are not operating this early in the morning. I take off as fast as my sleek body will allow. I go by the balcony area and hear Conway Twitty singing, “Its Only Make Believe.” I glance down and see that good looking blond lady with a Dolly Parton chest dancing alone. It takes another five minutes to reach the opposite end of the building. Before I can race downstairs I find a huge crowd of second graders and their teachers slowly moving downward. I feel like jumping off the balcony. Another five minutes and I finally get past the crowd of mini people. I can’t hear the music anymore. I hurry down to the dancing area. Almost everybody has vanished into thin air. The only ones left are a few Marjory Main looking gals, a 300 pounder and the beer belly. He introduces himself as Al Parsons. He says he lost his wife a few years back and was looking for something to do. He started line dancing. He now moves around the area teaching and doing free dances at the malls. He told me it is great fun and he gets to meet a lot of fine ladies. I ask him how I can get involved. Tomorrow he is holding a three hour beginner’s session at the church, only a few blocks from my daughter Lisa’s house. I think I hit the jackpot, but we will see what tomorrow brings. I hope Marjory Main and that big lady don’t show up. I am hoping to dance with Dolly Parton.

I got a good night sleep last night. I needed it after that wild night at the Empress Casino. I did have a few dreams. I didn’t like the first one. It was about that Hillbilly Band that sang Johnny Cash songs. They were chasing me on a giant treadmill. The two dogs from Chicago, Sarge and Ghetto Skunk , were running with us and barking up a storm. Every time the guy with no teeth got close to catching me the homely singer would start singing Folsom Prison. It made me think about what goes on in prison after hours. I would speed up my running and the treadmill would spin us around and eject us. I figured it was that shot of Tequila I drank at the bar with the lady who didn’t want to see my essays. Booze makes me dream crazy things. The second dream was better. I was on the Fireboat. We were having a party. The boat was moving at a high rate of speed. At the helm was Howard Whittis. Howard was a weird kid who hung around the firehouses in the 7^th Battalion. Water skiing behind the boat was several famous Firefighters including Big Bill Russel. I was drinking ice cold beer with my friends. There was music and my friend Greg Pearn was dancing with Chicago Lil. I never got to see the end of the dream but it had movie potential.

I was refreshed in the morning. All went well until I drank a cup of coffee prepared by Roger, my son-in-law. Roger is a coffee connoisseur. He drinks only the best. The problem is, he likes it strong. It is so thick it could be used to apply black face at a minstrel show. I only took two sips. I was immediately jolted into a herky-jerky state that caused me to put the cup down before I sprayed the walls with my shaking hands. The left side of my face went numb and I passed two squeaky farts that sounded like a castrated dying mouse. I knew I would be wired for the rest of the day.

Lisa took me to the Mid River Mall so I could take my daily walk. It was huge. It took 40 minutes to walk around it three times. We went to Coscos next. We stopped and ate at every promotional site in the store. The free samples were great. When we finished grazing I bought us a couple of hot dogs for breakfast. It was a fun third day.

Day Two

It was 10 below zero this morning. I was heading for Florida, so I didn’t bring an ice scrapper. I had to use the back side of my comb to clear my windshield. My fingers got so cold I thought I had frostbite; said goodbye to the Empress Casino Hotel. It was a good stay. Made some money and met some new friends. As I left the parking lot, I thought I saw that toothless guitar player peeking at me from the Continue reading →

DAY ONE

Got off to a good start on Jan. 9th. Left Sharon’s house headed for Chicago. Clear all the way to Jackson Michigan. Ran into a snow storm. Several spin-out accidents and one semi overturned in the median. Decided to stop at Joliette, Illinois Walked around looking for the Blues Brothers but couldn’t find them. Went to the Empress Casino and talked to a pit boss. He comped me a five star room for the night. Watched the Cowboys kick the hell out of the Eagles. Grabbed the shuttle taxi for the casino. Rode there with a big guy named Harley and his, Indian-Mex, girlfriend Jeannie. They told me that a poker dealer, named Oscar, was spreading a rumor that Jeannie was pregnant. They were going to talk to Oscar about it. They asked me to be the child’s godfather in case the rumor was true. Signed up for a seat at the hold-em table and walked around to see if Jake or Elwood were in the Casino. I only found old fat ladies who were smoking and playing the slots. A loudspeaker called me to the poker room. A guy with hunched shoulders and a black patch over his eye took me to my seat. I thanked him and he replied, “Arrrrrr.”

I sat down and discovered that I was at a table where Harley and Jeannie were arguing with a dealer named Oscar. They were glad to see me and introduced me to the group as the “Godfather”. The guy next to me edged his seat away from mine and didn’t make eye contact. It was a fun group. The conversation was lively. On old timer at the end of the table said he had seven wives. We were amazed. I asked him how he did it. He said six of them were married to other people. It was a fun game and I ended up winning $80.00.

It was getting late. I went to the bar to watch a three piece hillbilly band singing Johnny Cash tunes. The lady singer sounded exactly like Johnny Cash. She kind of looked like him too. The guitar players resembled the two mountain men from the movie Deliverance. The guy with no teeth kept grinning at me. I sat next to a lady who was singing along with the band. Her friend was playing the video poker machine with a vengeance. We started t talk and found we had several mutual friends. Deb, the sing-along lady, told me she was writer. Theresa, the other lady, said she had once been married to a Chicago firefighter. That is where we had mutual friends. She even knew about Sarge and Ghetto Skunk. These were two dogs me and my fellow firefighter, Greg Pearn, were introduced to while attending a Union convention in Chicago. They were Labrador Retrievers. The men at the fire house had painted black sergeant stripes on the shoulders of the yellow lab, the black dog had a white stripe running from his nose to the tip of his tail. We asked, “Why the paint job?’ The firefighters told us the dogs liked to roam the neighborhood and frequently got lost. They said it made it easier for the Chief to see them when he made his rounds. He would pick them up and bring them home. It was nice to have mutual friends. It was like visiting with family. We talked about writing books and they asked me for a copy of “Fire Horses.” I gave them one and Deb asked if I would review her latest effort at writing. I told her to e-mail it to me. I think I recruited her into a writer’s club I belong to. I asked her if she wanted to come to my room to see some of my essays. She declined. It was a fun night and I turned in with a smile on my face. It was a good trip so far.