My neighbor, Sally, wrote recently about her favorite music and other memories of days gone by in her blog.
I got lost in his arms
That got me thinking of my memories of dancing in my days gone by.
There was a place on Gun Lake (about 30 min. away) called The Note. Kids from everywhere came to dance and dance we did. There was a fair amount of stomping involved and when one wears penny loafers and stomps for hours, one has tender heels at the end of the evening. Ah, the fun - ah, the pain.
You were supposed to be 16 to get into The Note. I believe I was 14 when I started begging rides. Yes, the search for a ride usually started on Wednesday for a ride on Saturday.
I loved every second I spent at The Note except for that one time when a girl did her best to beat me up. Don't ask.
Fights. There were epic fights. Mine was the only girl fight I remember but those boys - sometimes it seemed like the whole floor was taken up by male fists a-flyin'.
I don't remember when The Note closed down but it sat idle for quite a while and then someone turned it into a church. That was weird. Finally someone else turned it back into a dance place but for country dancing. We (Petey and I) happened to be interested at that time and got a few other friends to check it out. I think we started out with 20 or so people (lessons were involved) and after a few weeks they dropped off rather quickly. We hung in there, though, and enjoyed the hell out of it.
That phase also passed and The Note is again empty.
I don't think places like The Note exist for kids anymore. Too bad. I think it was my "golden era." Tons o' fun.