Forever Young

We were all arriving about the same time and filing into the building, destination upstairs. There was a ramp inside that turned once and finished at the second floor, which was an open area with a stage, dance floor, tables & chairs, and a bar. The crowd was moving slowly. Some of the guests were struggling behind walkers. I saw two wheelchairs. Once I made it to the top I felt a warm afternoon breeze in my hair. There was no roof to this space, we were on the roof. I took a seat and scanned the room. There was gray hair everywhere. There were hands stained with age marks. There were gnarled feet with disjointed toes, painted as best they could. I counted fifty people before I gave up, a good size group. We had all come to listen to a band we liked, actually we loved, a well-known band that had built a reputation for playing all the great hits from our generation. It looked like it was going to be a nice afternoon.

As the band began to set up and test gear, the waitresses delivered beverage orders. Beer and wine were coming out with coffee and tea. I did not know the people at my table. They seemed very old to me. Someone was doing microphone checks and the drummer was tuning his instrument. Moments later the band kicked off the first song, a slow ballad. It was nice. They were a very good cover band. Tradition kept us all in our seats. For some reason, the first song of every set is a sit down. When the second song, a classic, started, you could tell it was time to dance. Slowly one by one, fans of the band rose from their seats and wobbled to the floor. Wobbled to dance.

My table mates were rising. I decided to let them clear out before doing the same. I approached the dance floor more as an observer than a contributor. Almost everyone was out there now, a couple of walkers and a wheelchair too. The dance moves were sluggish and ill-timed. But I had to hand it to them. They were dancing. The third song kicked in, followed by a round of cheers. I remembered this song from my youth. The tempo was picking up and most of the dancers were moving to it. As I examined the floor, I could see smiles and happy eyes. Everyone was having a lot of fun.

Song after song, hit after hit, the band played on. I suddenly noticed the walkers were gone. I could not locate the wheelchair. Smiles turned into laughter, laughter into pandemonium. A woman bumped into me and winked. I swore she had gray hair, but now it was blonde. Her hands which were once ancient now looked amazingly young, skin soft. I smiled at her as she spun around and away. Behind her were three women competing for the best dance moves. They were jumping around like teenagers. Their laughter was infectious. The band singer called out for some fan participation with the lyrics. Everyone knew the words. He swung his microphone in and out exchanging one line for the dancers and one for himself. He jumped high into the air, tossing his long curly hair with disregard. As he landed back on earth the lead guitarist took center stage and demonstrated what he could do with his instrument. The solo was insanely driving and edgy. It moved the dancers into a new level of complexity and synchronicity. They were lost in the music.

I could no longer find any old people, not a single age mark. The floor was filled with young dancers having the time of their life. Two more songs and then the singer announced the last tune. No one left the floor. The song played and the dancing ensued. At the song’s end, the dancers demanded one more and were granted it, one of the biggest hits of all time. The band played it to perfection. I could see tears of joy on many faces. Then it was over.

The dance floor cleared as everyone rushed back to their seats to finish their drink and settle their accounts. I wandered up to the bar and paid my tab, then left down the walkway to the lower level. As I exited the front door, I hesitated. I decided to hold back so I took a seat off to the side and fiddled with my phone. I could hear the crowd beginning to descend. In time, they arrived at the front entrance. I spied them from my side seat. Among the walkers and wheelchairs were very old people once again. The transformation came full circle. They laughed and hooted as they slowly stepped out of the building and away to their transportation.

I sat there in awe for some time until the very last dancer finally left. I was puzzled as to what I had witnessed. How did it happen? Then a small thought came to my mind and filled my heart. It seemed to me that life and aging are two wonderful gifts we have if we are lucky enough. Cherish the moments and gather friends around you.

And don’t forget to dance!