SND

Saturday night, I am alone, my back does not hurt, like yesterday, listening to sixties music and writing on my computer. I miss Dianne and I don’t like being home alone…it’s a little scary. I have no motivation to go out so here I sit listening to Beatles and Mommas and Pappas music and thinking about Saturday nights 30 year ago.

8:00 pm I would have been done with the farm chores, had dinner and have taken a shower and would have changed into my slacks, red (collarless) blazer and wingtips and be waiting for someone to pick me up for the Saturday Night Dance( SND). The SND, was the dance hosted by the LDS church for it’s or any youth 14 years and older, who were willing to put up with their standards. But the SND was a place to be, music girls and away from the parents for four hours. A place to pretend you were cool. It could have been Larry Green, Dennis Dahl a couple of guys just a little older then I but they had their licenses and most important a vehicle.

Mom and Dad would be nodding off on the couch just as Gunsmoke started. Would patiently be waiting in the front room where I could see the light of cars coming down the long road which connected our farm with the main high way. Mom would still be there sleeping “watching” TV when I got home from the dance round 1:00 am.

The SND officially started at 9:00 pm with an opening prayer. The dance was held in the Cultural Hall or gym of the ward house or stake center. The dance cost 25 cents or something like that with punch and cookies at half time. Three hours was all the time you had on a Saturday night to meet the guys act tough, build courage enough to talk with a girl and ask them to dance. In truth there were many nights I never danced standing instead with a bunch of punks like myself secretly wishing I had someone to dance with. Actually, there were a couple of girls from my ward or Seminary class who “buddies” and these girls were safe to ask to dance because there was no chance of rejection—they were like guys only soft. The real risk was asking someone to dance you did not know from Jack. I did this a couple of times. I survived. I learned to risk, even if just a little. I even continued going to these dances after my accident. I even asked girls I did not know to dance then too. I cannot believe I did that. Even my “girl buddies” were risky then many could not get past the wheelchair of the paralyzed body. Like the guys girls would clump n groups and some times I could go through an entire clump and no one would dance with me but eventually one would but often the song would end by the time we got out to the dance floor.

It’s Saturday night, 9:30 and here I sit alone blogging wish I could see more clearly memories lost.