I got a pretty good haul for Christmas. Apart from the essentials like clothing, of which I remember little, my parents bought me Are You Experienced, by Hendrix, and Goodbye, by Cream, and Near the Beginning, by Vanilla Fudge. I wore them out. My grandmother commented that she “couldn’t stand” the Cream song I’m So Glad, because I played the album a couple of times per day, and often listened to one side while dozing off to sleep for the night.
The New Year began a little rocky due to the uncertainty at school concerning the demolished gym, a separate building connected by a covered walkway between it and the main educational side. The area looked like a mini war zone, as though a bomb or missile or huge meteor had landed on the building.
The Pug-a-Nut had also crashed, at least as a business. There was some inner controversy, but I don’t remember anything about that. I’d also heard that Billy D had gotten married. Wow. I didn’t see that coming. With those developments I figured for a return to the earlier status quo, but The Heroes were still kind of on ice, partly because of the guitarist’s basketball commitment, but there may have been other reasons as well. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who missed the dance scene.
One Friday night, CEP, Lawman, and another guy, TP, who had just gotten out of the army, showed up at my grandmother’s house. “Comon, we’re going to a square dance.” A square dance? Were they kidding? The optimal word is “square” and all the negative implications the word implies. Why go to a square dance? I wondered. “Be a lotta women there,” Lawman said. Really? I was having trouble grasping that concept. I was a youth music guy moving increasingly toward the more progressive side of that genre, so I just couldn’t see how this would be any fun. “I want you to meet my girlfriend,” Lawman said. I grudgingly consented to go.
The particular square dance was held, I believe, in Athens, Tennessee. There was a band that played sort of down home country type songs, and every few numbers a guy would jump up behind the mic and start the calling. I’d seen similar things on television, but didn’t understand them any more than I understood an auctioneer babbling away. One problem that evening was that just a few people showed up, and so the squares were constantly lobbying CEP and me to join in. It seemed pointless to me since I had no idea what the calls meant, nor how to execute any of the moves. Still, the pressure finally got to us and we tried a couple of the call events, to a mostly mixed success rate, though the results were more inept than disastrous.
When the next week rolled around, same thing. Lawman and CEP, minus TP, wanted to go to a like event in Lenoir City, Tennessee. “They’ll be a lotta women there,” Lawman said. “Yeah? That’s what you said last week,” I answered. “I’ll bet your girlfriend will be there, though.” “She’ll be there. She said one of her friends would be there, too.” We went.
The dance was held in a fairly huge hall, which appeared to have some gymnasium-like qualities, and I recall it being referred to as a community center. The crowd, unlike in Athens a week earlier, was overflowing, with both dance floor and bleachers packed to the gills. I couldn’t believe it. Even more unusual to me was the crowd mix of all ages of people dancing together. I also noticed that young people danced the square and everything else. In that respect the event was very interesting to me. Best of all was that Lawman didn’t lie: lotta women there.
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