Pictured above, from left to right: me, Steve Sellers (North Carolina), Parker Stephen, one of my roommates (Florida), Tony LeRud (Minnesota, attended Tabor in Hillsboro, KS), and Matt Esswein (SoCal).
Friday evening we rounded up the lasses and had ourselves a good ol' time at the Fall 2005 Barn Dance. We line danced. We swing danced. We even square danced. A wonderful time was had by all. We even had a square dance caller. That was a good thing, because I was pretty sure that I wasn't going to fully recall everything from my yearly square dancing unit from grade school physical education. All my fellow QH schoolmates - you know what I'm talkin' 'bout. Is it possible to dedicate a dance to someone after you do it? Well, I'd like to dedicate Friday evening's square dance to Mrs. Alber, without whose instruction all those years ago I would have approached Friday evening's festivities with much fear and trepidation. Instead, I was able to grab my partner, spin her 'round an' 'round, and even do the right-to-left grand, knowing in my heart that I was hip to be a square dancer. Mrs. Alber, to you I say, "Props."
I've been growing out my beard all semester long. It was fun while it lasted. I decided, against my better judgment, to fashion my man-whiskers into a combination of chops, a soul patch, and a fu manchu. My facial hair stylings were warmly received. Actually, I think people just felt sorry for me because I looked so ridiculous. But I'm glad I did it. You only live once, right? I hope there are barn dances in heaven.
Well, before I ski'daddle on off to bed, I'd like to recite, from memory, the words from the best half-cowboy/half-sentimental New Englander song I know. It's a gem by James Taylor, entitled "Sweet Baby James":
(not including the sentimental New Englander half of the song)
There is a young cowboy, who lives on the range
His horse and his cattle are his only companions
He works in the saddle and he sleeps in the canyons
Waiting for summer, his pastures to change
And as the moon rises he sits by his fire
Thinkin' about women and glasses of beer
And closin' his eyes as the doggies retire
He sings out a song which is soft, but it's clear
As if maybe someone could hear...
Goodnight, ya moonlight ladies
Rock-a-bye sweet baby James
Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose
Won't ya let me go down in my dreams
An' rock-a-bye sweet baby James
