Some pictures need to be tossed as soon as you reach into the envelope you get from the processor. This is one of them. I'm not sure the year, but the location is the Country Club in Emerald City. Nice to see the old light fixture that were all over the downstairs bar area. They had a dance floor and apparently the alcohol, or the current Mrs. Blythe in my arms, or whatever the occasion was swept me off my feet. Is that Spike in the background? This is perhaps the next to last time I danced, having found the endeavor complicated and verging on an exhibitionism that was opposed to me general demeanor. I never got the hang of it. Uncle Ed refused my plea for a radio on the tractor because he said I could drive and listen at the same time. Maybe he knew something I didn't. Guess I couldn't move my hips, listen to the music and make conversation all at once. Simply "letting loose" certainly wasn't in the cards.
Nor can be more fun watching. Some dancers look like they are suffering from some sort of seizures or close to some form of NSFW mating ritual just short of actual penetration. Give me a beer, a table in the corner and I'll watch all night.
The last time I danced was this wonderful moment at my daughters wedding in G-Burg in 2012. According to silly wedding protocol a father is supposed to dance with the bride. Otherwise, this would not have happened. Now this dance was fun, even with the spotlight.
This above picture was forwarded to me this week by Mrs. Wombie and my thanks to her for finding it.