|Oil Can Harry's - Hollywood, California|
Remember two years ago when I was in Los Angeles and made a total fool out of myself at Oil Can Harry's (see HERE)? Sure you remember.
It was "Disco Night" or "Seventies Night" or some such thing. Pat and I had just arrived in LA after a five hour flight and then fighting the traffic from LAX to our bed and breakfast. It was raining that night and all Pat wanted to do was rest. However, I wanted to take a trip back in time and experience the best time of my life, disco night and dancing at a gay bar. Some of the best days (and nights) of my life were disco dancing at various gay bars on the East Coast. I wanted to go to that happy place again.
I talked Pat into driving me through the dark and rainy night, on the twisty Mulholland Drive, which we weren't familiar with. We found Oil Can Harry's and lucky for us there was just one parking spot left. Pat backed into it (always back in, makes the getaway easier).
We entered the bar and as expected, the disco ball was sprinkling its faceted light among the dancers and lookers on. And the music was thumping. After we got our drinks I told Pat, "I have to go out on the dance floor." He gives me THAT look like a parent patiently indulging a child who is about to make a very foolish decision.
I bee bop my way out on the dance floor and am soon joined by a tank topped, muscleman with a drink in his hand and torn jeans. Oh no, just a dance buddy, nothing more.
I morphed into my "Elaine Dance." Oh sure, you know what the "Elaine Dance" is don't you? "Seinfeld?" Check it out.
Hey folks, I did the "Elaine Dance" before Elaine did it. Back in the 70's at the Backstreet Bar in Provincetown. I wondered why I cleared the dance floor. But hey, I was enjoying myself even though I always managed to clear the disco mirrored dance floor when I began by kicks and thumbs up dance gyrations.
So there I was, in the middle of the dance floor at Oil Can Harry's in LA and I make my moon walk back step and . . . . . . fall flat on my back!
I hear a collective "OH!" from my fellow dancers as they parted the Red Sea to see if this sad 72 year old was alright. As I lay there on the dance floor, flat on my back looking at the still rotating disco ball, I thought "This is so embarrassing!" But at least I'll never see these people again.
I get up off of the dance floor, on my own but not without a struggle. My tank topped, torn jeans dance partner just stares at me in amazement as he backs away from me with his "I don't know him" move.
I summon up my "This is no big deal" attitude and casually exit the dance floor. I asked Pat, who was videotaping a dancer whose moves he was admiring, "Did you get that?" He didn't! Man oh man, that video would have went viral.
The dance floor quickly filled in like a hand removed from a bucket of water. It appeared that my humiliation was short-lived as my fellow dancers quickly resumed their Trip Back to the Seventies and Disco Night nostalgia trip. Perhaps thinking, "There's just another poor old fool attempting to relive his past." Oh well.
This past January when we returned for our annual trip to LA, Pat and I couldn't fit Oil Can Harry's into our schedule of activities. But you know folks, I think I would like to give it a try again next year. Especially after listening to this selection from a group called "Opiuo." The selection is called "Slur and Giggle" which I think is appropriate for a now 75 year old Old Fool getting out on the dance floor, under the disco ball and doing my version of the Elaine Dance. Hey folks, that's what life is about. Having a good time and especially being able to laugh at yourself.
This selection may not be old fuddy duddy disco but check out the beat, how can you NOT dance to this? And this time I'll make sure Pat videos me doing my moves.