The Good Old Days

Seems like a thousand years ago.  Andy and I would add a little extra kick to the Jessie Polka.  No strain.  Just see how high we could go.  Usually we did this in front of the band. We wanted to see if we could get the fiddler to miss a lick when we hollered and got his attention.  It was fun.  Just the best kind of fun you can have.  

This picture was taken at the Taney Center near Taneyville.  They had the best dance floor around.  Lots of our friends from Taney and Douglas County would come to dance and enjoy the great music that Bob Holt played with the band.  We thought it would go on and on forever.  But, just as most things, it came to an end.  

The road to the dance was rough and windy.  Anyone who travels that part of 160 highway knows you have to be careful around those curves or you might end up wound around a tree or headed down into a dark and wooly ravine. But it was a pleasure to take off after work on a Saturday night and make that drive.  We knew that friends and good music would make it all worthwhile.

Usually the floor was full of sets when we did a square.  Sometimes there was a two-step or a polka, but mainly Bob played a fast and furious fiddle tune that kept us moving until we gave out.  What a great memory that is.  

The band would take a break about half way through the dance.  But before they did,  the jig dancers would request a tune to jig too.  Oh my!  It was time to show-out, that's for sure.  I can close my eyes and see so many of my friends dancing away, feet moving at lightning speed, heels and toes clicking to the ever increasing beat of the  music.  We all needed a break after that.

Taney Center dance is gone.  I can't kick high when I do the Jessie Polka.  The square dances are few and far between now.  Many of our partners are gone.  

I love seeing the pictures from those years that have so swiftly gone.  I can close my eyes and hear Bob playing Ninth of January or Black Mountain Rag.  I can imagine the clicking of taps on the floor as we swoop and swing and smile.

But I keep these memories in my heart and in my mind and know that for us those were the best of days...and best of nights.  Kicking high, moving to the constant beat of the fiddle.  The good old days for sure.