Square Dancing

            I was at a local music festival and wandered into the Women's Club. It was a nice place. It was an older building, turn of the century, with wood floors and a small stage.
            A three piece fiddle band got on stage. There was a square dance caller. He organized the crowd into a circle, and within minutes people were square dancing. I saw smiles on the faces of the dancers. It looked like a lot of fun.
            The next song came on. It was a completely different square dancing configuration. Do you want to dance? my friend said to me. Had I said no I would have regretted it.
            We got on the floor and followed the instructions of the Caller. And in just a short time we were turning to the right, stepping in and out, peeling the banana. It was fun. You can act as silly as you want when you square dance. The kid in me came out. Everybody was spazzing out. It was the perfect opportunity to act like a fool.
            I looked around the room. It seemed every walk of life was represented. I got to thinking square dancing could be the cure for the world's ills. 

West Side Not the Best Side

            I went to the west side to buy bouzouki strings. I have no navigational skills when it comes to the west side. All systems turn off west of Robertson leaving me in a state of confusion. There's something about that part of town that doesn't make any sense to me. There are freeways where they're not suppose to be and boulevards that turn into dead ends. It's a mess. I'm the son of a World War Two Air Force navigator. I take pride in my inner compass. But the west side has elements of the Bermuda triangle. I find myself making U-turns just to survive. It doesn't help that everybody seems to be in a rush.
            I found the music store I was looking for. There was a helpful salesman. He was a real calm man. It made me wonder what he was doing over there. There were some nice guitars for sale. The guitars I liked were no less than five thousand dollars. Two weeks pay for a washed out lawyer. 
            I left the music store and began the hunt for a freeway entrance.