I pretended to rule our house when I was a little girl. I traipsed around following my mama wearing a bodysuit and black ballet tights. Actually, I remember during this specific time period gold and red were my very favorite accessories. I thought they were “to die for”.
I loved feeling like a little blues 70s “go go” cat dancing through the living room with my mom, sliding across the couch with my smooth tights slippery on the cushions.
My mom played all of her favorite music for me. When she was in school she had been what would be now the equivalent of a person that was in “Glee”. My mama could sing! She danced. She could play some music now. Wow.
She showed me broadway in our living room. She taught me the blues. She about Cats! Nat King Cole and Billy Holliday. ELVIS! The rain in spain stays mainly in the plains. The Bee Gees.
The Duke of Earl.
It was raining that day. I was pouting on the couch because I had wanted to go outside and just make come mud pies. Dammit.
I had put on some ugly cut off shorts and an Elmer Fudd T-shirt. My mom didn’t say one word to me, instead, she walked into our living room stood in front of me and gently tossed my tights and my body suit over onto the couch. I looked up, mom turned to the front window, looked out at the rain and smiled. She said ” It’s Ohio Puss, might as well dance.”
She walked over to the stereo and started some music. I don’t remember what the first song was because I was putting on my clothes. ( We ALWAYS got dressed for our dancing, a dancing queen must be dressed for her dancing and singing events!) Then, it happened. The Duke of Earl.
My mom. I can still see her right fist come up into the air. Her microphone hand. She sang into her fist like she was singing to thousands of people. Her voice was like no other. I stood beside her singing my heart out. We were magic. Red and black. The Duke of Earl Baby!
Who cared about the damn old rain anyway?