Carmen Karma Chameleon

       Sometimes, things kind of sneak up on you.  I’m not talking about the occasional scorpion, or giant, hairy spider, or la cucaracha.  I’m talking about something much slower – age. 

       This morning I was doing some writing and listening to Jimmy Buffett sing a song called “Holiday”.  I got up to refill my coffee, and on the way back to the computer, I looked down at Betty (the wonder dog), who lay on the cool, tile floor watching me pass.  From out of nowhere I started doing what can only be described as an old person dance. 

       Holding my cup of coffee in one hand, and the other arm extended, palm out, my rounded shoulders began to ‘roll’ to and fro.  Then, before I could stop them, my feet began to shuffle in a stiff rumba pattern.  I moved forward and back like Ricky Ricardo (he’s dead, by the way) on Quaaludes.  My bare feet shuffled like George Burns proving that he could still do the ‘soft shoe’ at ninety-eight years old. He too is dead, by the way.

       Betty looked at me with the same look on her little face that I must have had on my little face when my mother did the old person’s dance in front of me.  Was it embarrassment?  Can dog’s look, or even be, embarrassed?  Or was it pity?  It didn’t matter, not in that moment.  As if possessed, I did a slow spin, and smiled all the wider. While the Congo drums played, I did the old person’s dance, while my little dog stared at my feet with…was that envy?

       In the end, I am grateful to be alive long enough to do the old person’s dance, and I hope to be around long enough to embarrass my own kids (more than I already have), and maybe a grand kid or two.  Life is good.  Life is good. 

DP