Flashback Friday # 132

Saturday Night Fever

Greetings one & all. Put on your polyester, blow-dry your hair & crank up the tunes. Today's post is about a movie that affected my early teen year, Saturday Night Fever. I was in the 8th grade when it came out. Disco had taken the USA by storm and this movie only added fuel to the fire. We had all watched John Travolta as a teen in Welcome Back Kotter. We watched that show every week. Vinnie Barbarino, Juan Epstein, Freddie (Boom Boom) Washington, and Arnold Horshack made us all laugh. Travolta's character in Saturday Night Fever was no "sweat hog". ere is a picture of the Original Soundtrack album (which I also owned).

Our Jr. High music teacher taught us a couple of disco steps. Looking back at it, some of them remind me a lot of country line dancing, but with different music(especially the dance to the song "Night Fever"). Denny Tarrio (Travolta's dance teacher, funny how I can remember that) came out with a book that he hawked by saying "I taught John Travolta how to dance, now I can teach you". We used to say, "If I can teach John Travolta how to dance, a schmuck like you should be a piece of cake". This was before VHS. If there had been such a thing back then, they wouldn't have been able to make them fast enough. Disco was that hot.

I don't intend to blow my own horn, but I was a pretty good dancer myself. I didn't buy the book, but I had seen the movie a dozen times. This was one of the few movies that cleaned itself up a bit and re-submitted itself to the ratings board. Originally it was rated R. Because they wanted everyone to see Travolta's dancing, some scenes were removed, others darkened, it came back out as PG. There are some clips at YouTube if you dare.

Since I had the album, I was able to practice whenever I pleased. That was usually right after school, since neither of my parents cared for the music. If it wasn't Country & Western, they weren't interested.

The one problem that presented itself was that there was no place to dance. I lived in the middle of nowhere, unlike Travolta's character, who lived in New York. Then I heard something exciting on the radio. A large skating rink in Columbus was transforming the middle of the skating rink into a dance floor. The grand opening was soon. I asked my parents if I could go. I was all of 14 years old. What do you think they told me? They said if I could find someone to who would go with me. That was easy. I knew if I asked Kelly Stump, she would jump at the chance. I asked, she jumped. Off to Columbus we went.

Dad dropped us off and told us that he would be back at 9 PM. The dance floor was quite unusual. A staircase took you up & over the skaters onto a landing, then descended to the middle, where the dance floor was located. We danced the night away. At one point I was surrounded by several older teens of a different skin tone. They were fascinated at some of the moves that I had created, and wanted to learn them. I taught them until my sides literally ached.

Dad showed up at 9, and we loaded up and headed off to home. For one night, I was a regular "John Revolta".

Playing With Your Food

I ran across this video on the Cheezburger Network and my grandson, "The Boy", loved it so much that I have seen it countless times over the last few days. I hope you enjoy it as much as he did. Click here to see it.

The Sounds You Hear At Night

Last night, as bedtime was nearing, I heard what sounded like a lawn mower running. Who would be running a lawn mower at 10:15 PM? When I let Sparky out the final time before bed, he started barking frantically. The neighbor, who had moved in over the winter, was trying to get his mower running. He had worked on it for several hours without success. He finally got it running at 10:15 PM. He said while it was running, he was going to mow the grass in fear that it wouldn't start again. He duct taped a flashlight to the motor head and commenced to mow his lawn. I wish I had a camera with night vision to have taken pictures of it. Watching that beam of light moving around the lawn was hysterical.

Flashback Friday #131

Going Bowling

Greetings one and all. Pull up a chair (unless you're the type who likes to stand while they are on the computer) and join me on another look into the past.

Bowling. The very word conjures images of heavy objects and ugly shoes. During my early teens, I did quite a bit of bowling. Both of my parents were in a league at one time or another, so it was just natural that I pick the sport up too.

During my years in Jr. High, a bus from Charger Lanes (in the neighboring county seat) came to the school every Friday to pick up a bunch of us. We were divided into teams and bowled against each other in league action. At the end of the year, we had an awards banquet that was held in the bowling alley's bar (the bar wasn't open at the time we were in it). My first year I received a trophy for high team series. It was due to some teammates of mine having a great day on the same day.

Near the middle of my 8th grade year, the number of bowlers had dwindled. Charger Lanes contacted the school and told them it was no longer profitable to come and pick us up. I can use the real name of the bowling alley because it is no longer in business. The building is gone as well. Where it used to be now sits a donut/ice cream shop and an auto parts store (they are two separate stores. They don't sell ice cream, donuts & spark plugs at the same place).

During the summer between 8th & 9th grade, Dad asked me if I would like to join a father/son league he had heard of in Westerville. I said sure. We got there and filled out the registration and were teamed up with another father/son combo. The dad was older than my dad and the son was older than me. The first week, we bowled to set our handicap.

I must admit, I am somewhat handicapped in my bowling knowledge. I didn't have a clue what handicap was or how it pertained to the game. All I know is that I did lousy that night, therefore obtaining the highest handicap in the league. I can recall one individual commenting "Jeez, They'll beat us in handicap alone".

Due to mechanical issues with our car, and some health issues, we didn't get to finish that league. We missed the final three weeks. It was just as well. I probably would have received a trophy for the worst bowler. Dad got a similar trophy from a league he was in. He also got a trophy for being on the last place team. Here is a picture of what his last place trophy looked like:

Lousy bowling. It must run the the bloodlines.

Springtime in Ohio

Yesterday when I woke up it was 67 degrees. This morning it was 37 degrees. They say if you don't like the weather in Ohio, stick around for a bit. It will change. UPDATE: At 3:15, while waiting to pick up "The Boy" from school, it started spitting snow. Now re-read the first sentance of this post.

Dental Hygiene 101

Last night, after I went to bed, this LOL of mine made front page on "Up Next In Sports" (one of the Cheezburger sites). I found it this morning. You know how much hockey players are concerned about how their teeth look.

Flashback Friday #130

L'eggs

A cheery welcome to all who have stopped by this way. I'm off to meander down memory lane again. Care to come along?

Today's post is about that bane to womanhood. Pantyhose. I can see the wheels turning in your head right now. "Why on Earth would HE be writing about pantyhose? The answer is quite simple. I got to play with the toy that came with them.

Now you're saying "A toy in pantyhose?" I'm sure I've lost a few of you already. Not all brands came with a toy. Only one. L'eggs.

Many moons ago, L'eggs pantyhose actually came in a large plastic egg. It was similar to the plastic Easter eggs you see all over at this time of year. Mom bought only L'eggs, so I got all the plastic eggs that they came in.

What can one do with large plastic eggs? I had a fertile imagination, so I had lots of uses for them. I would use the halves to create crash helmets for my multitude of sock monkeys. I would use them for storing small things in. Perhaps the most bizarre use I had for them was I would fill them with as many toy soldiers as would fit in them. I would then fill the sink up with water. Then I submerged the egg & cracked it open slightly, so that it would fill with water. I then took the eggs filled with water & soldiers and put it in the freezer. The next day I would pop out a frozen soldier filled egg. It was like aliens had captured them or something.

There is, however, one pantyhose story that I must tell. When opening the package, the nylons were rather small before use. Mom wore queen size, so when Dad saw that little pair of hose come out of that egg, he couldn't believe his eyes. They were about six inches across and about a foot long. He took one look at them and told Mom, "There's no way in the world you're going to be able to get your fat butt in those!" "Want to make a bet?" was Mom's reply. She then promptly stretched them onto her. Dad stood there in slack jawed amazement. "Never in a million years would I have thought you could put those on." he said. Mom just laughed at him.

Alas, all good things must come to an end. L'eggs changed their packaging. They stopped putting them in eggs and started putting them in packages like the other hosiery. The eggs was seen as an example of wasteful packaging.