I can't do that anymore!

Yes, that is me.  And Andy.  We were dancing at the Taney Center many a moon ago.  The tune was the Jesse Polka and we were doing our patented high kick, entertaining the crowd...and the band.  As far as I know, Andy and I were....and to this day....still are the only couple in Southwest Missouri to add this little flourish to this particular dance.  I can't remember when we came up with it.  But I do know that we were much younger...and less arthritic than we are now.

Hootin an Hollarin is coming up.  In fact, it is just around the corner.  We love to dance.  And we will be there, front and center when the band hits the first lick of Liberty or Soldier's Joy or maybe even Sally Goodin.  But when they play the Jesse Polka  we will be doing the Elder-modified version...that is, minus the leg kick. I can't do that anymore but Andy could probably still do it.   If any of you have seen  how my husband cuts up on the dance floor with his patented "Andy moves", you know what I mean.  I truly do not know where he learned the step that he does, flinging his leg out straight and winding up his arm in time to the music.  Many people have remarked on it...but I don't think anyone has tried it.

That's the great thing about dancing down here in the Ozarks.  Everyone has their own style.  I love to watch the dancers down on the Square at night.  Youngsters and teenagers, newly married couples and oldsters...the music sets them moving.  Age is not a factor.  We once danced with a man who was approaching ninety.  He had learned to square dance when he was a boy and had become quite a famous dancer here in the Ozarks.  When he would come to a dance he looked as if he could hardly get in the door.  His back was bent.  His legs were weak.  He would move slowly and carefully to his seat and put on his dance shoes. But when the fiddle music started he was the first one on the floor.  "Get up here you youngsters," he'd say.  "Times a wasten'  Are you goin' to dance with me...or not!"  We'd jump up and make a square. He would call the set, his voice not as strong as it was when he was young, but strong enough to follow....Chase the rabbit, chase the squirrel, chase that pretty girl round the world...and off we'd go.

He never said that he couldn't dance.  He never said he was too old to dance.  He never left the dancehall without thanking us for dancing with him. 

And so, as usual, I will be down on the Square all three nights this week.  I will not be sitting down much at all.  I may not be able to kick my leg up high in the air like I use to.  But just like my old friend, I'll be urging my friends to get up and join in the dancing.  After all, times a wasten'!