I exercised the other day. I don't exercise much anymore. I am in my late fifties but the other evening in a motel in Ft. Smith, Arkansas, I got out of bed from watching television to set the alarm which was across the room. I shut off the television and turned on the radio to dial in the public radio station. The most beautiful music was on the air. "American Angels" was playing by "Anonymous Four".
I turned out the lights and began slowly stretching and extending my arms, stretching my shoulders and rolling my neck. It felt good to move. Soon I was remembering Charlotte, my ballet dance partner 39 years ago, from Alabama and I stood up a little straighter, tucked in my buttocks, sucked in my stomach, raised my shoulders and waited for her to come twirling into my arms. I danced to her memory the best I could. Slowly moving my stiff under-used muscles as smoothly and rhythmically as I was able to the sweet music filling the room. I lightly jumped leftward and rightward while delicately moving my ballet arms in a country boy's idea of Nureyev. Anyone watching would have seen an old paunch bellied toad of a man doing an arthritic dance in the darkened sour smelling room with matted carpet of a mundane motel with semi trucks in the parking lot.
Everything external was incongruous with the internal visions in the old man's head. His body was helping him remember the time he was youthful, vibrant, and strong, dancing with a beautiful cheery dark haired girl who smiled and laughed and was excited to have a dance partner. His hip bones and shoulder bones creaked and crackled, popped and snapped, but he kept moving and stretching his arms, legs, and back to the heavenly voices coming from the radio, in the dark, in the bright white room of his memory. The crowds were raucous, his partner's muscles taut, well trained and warm. Her movements fluid. They rolled and strolled the dance boards together, their bodies singing to the sky, the sunshine, and the sweet winds of joyous movement.
Charlotte died several years ago from an accidental gunshot wound.
