Word-dancing

A Lunch party

 Dear Reader,

Because I am not really sure what goes on when you go"clubbing" I thought I would look on line and get a few tips should I want to go.  At my age I suspect I wouldn't but I might be surprised.

Clubbing is the activity of visiting and gathering socially at nightclubs and festivals.  That includes socializing, listening to music, dancing, drinking alcohol and using other recreational drugs.

The point of clubbing is, apparently, the social connections and support that develop through shared enjoyment of the music.  It seems you can wear whatever you like but a sexy T-shirt and high heels are recommended.

If you are practicing sobriety,  with the right mind set and a few savvy tips you can dance the night away fully present and energized without a drop of alcohol. From reducing stress and boosting mood, to improving physical fitness and social connections, clubbing can improve our overall well being.

I have now seen that at the age of 37 you seem too old for a night on the town, with a brutal 37 per cent of the respondents saying that there is nothing more tragic than seeing revelers in their 40s and 50s surrounded by twenty somethings.

And finally 4 reasons to avoid nightclubs. 1) The music can be awful.  2) The atmosphere can be very superficial.   3)   You may have to wait forever for a drink.   4)  The lights can be blinding.

Well obviously I won't and can't go clubbing being a wee bit over the age necessary to enter, and I don't think this is a great disappointment.  I will go and water the sweet peas instead.

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From Gilbert White  May 12th   1790 in Hampshire

'The rhubarb-tart good and well flavoured.'

 

From D.H. Lawrence   May 14th   1915 in Sussex

'I find the country very beautiful  The apple trees are leaning forwards, all white with blossom towards the green grass.  I watch, in the morning when I wake up, a thrush on the wall outside the window - not a thrush, a blackbird - and he sings, opening his beak.  It is a strange thing to watch his singing, opening his beak and giving out his calls and warblings, then remaining silent.  He looks so remote, so buried in primeval silence, standing there on the wall, and bethinking himself, then opening his beak to make the strange, strong sounds.  He seems as if his singing were a sort of talking to himself, or of thinking aloud his strongest thoughts.  I wish I were a blackbird, like him.  I hate men.' 

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Word-dancing

 

 

 

The woman discovers the double act

of word-dancing at dinner,

recognizes with excitement

mutual friends from books, from poetry,

from world’s explored, but only

known thus far in solitude.

 

Together they dance through imagined lands

sharing knowledge,

throwing words back and forth

in light ethereal movements,

cerebral binding and bonding,

now the foxtrot, now the waltz..

 

For her these pleasures

are found at lunch parties, at dinner,

in libraries, on courses.

But where can the young word-dance?

Her grandson lunches on the run,

dines with EastEnders, 

goes clubbing on  solitary trips

too noisy,  frightening, for word-dancing,

for cerebral binding and bonding

now the foxtrot, now the waltz.

 

                                                                                  *

 

With very best wishes, Patricia

 

PS  Perhaps DH Lawrence should have gone clubbing.  It might have cheered him up