Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Disco Days

I'm not sure what the occasion is, but the middle school is having special "days".  Yesterday was camouflage day and today, I discovered was disco day.  When the middle school came into the lunch room, I heard loud music start.  I was back washing dishes, so the noise of the dishwasher made it so I couldn't hear what was being played, but eventually, I ran out of dirty dishes and I could hear what was being played.  Then I really began to wonder....why were the middle schoolers listening to The Hustle??  That's when I found out it was Disco Day.  So I washed dishes to the tunes of the Bee Gees and Gloria Gaynor, and then, it came on.  The disco song that defines disco songs...YMCA.   I was doing the dance in the dishwasher room, because it's physically impossible to NOT do the YMCA dance when that song comes on.  The middle schoolers were all dancing too, which made me laugh because I was their age when that song first became popular.  I can remember dancing to that song in MY school gym about a million years ago and here we are, about 35 years later, and middle school kids are still doing the YMCA dance.  Heck, some of those kids parents weren't even born yet when that song came out.  I'll just go get my cane and prune juice now, it's all over.  The Village People may all be dead of aids now or whatever happened to them, but their music lives on forever, no matter how cheesy it is.  Long Live Disco!

Monday was the girls track meeting.   I'd just gone to the boys track meeting the Monday before, and since I've had a kid in track for the last 4 years, there really isn't a whole lot I don't know about being a track parent, but I go to the meetings because I should.  Also there was Super Mom.  You remember Super Mom, don't you?  She turned a 20 minute meeting into 45 minutes - it's like she's magic, only not like David Copperfield, but in a more boring, very much less sexy way.  She spent at least 5 minutes wondering about track meets scheduled the same time as state solo ensemble and forensics, on the remote chance that her freshman daughter may possible make it to state for either of those two events and not make a meet.  Deal with it IF it happens, lady.  And don't even get me going on the trainers vs sprinter shoe discussion or the plastic vs rubberized sole debate.  I pretty much wanted to poke out my ear drums with a #2 pencil.

No comments: