It Aint Over 'Til It's Over

I received a late birthday gift today-a front row near center seat at The Palm Springs Follies. Singers and dancers that ranged from 54-80 years old and in prime condition. Their bodies, lithe and agile and smiles, broad. At first, I was waiting for a heart attack during the high paced choreography then I just got lost in it. I found myself smiling as wide as these inspirations. Former Broadway/television performers with top notch presence, specific arm gestures, graceful maneuvers that would leave me winded today-most of them in their late 60s and 70s.

The emcee and founder, a comic Riff Markowitz jokes about the perils of old age and all that goes with it, but damn it! If he's going, he's doing it gracefully. It ain't over 'til it's over and this show is proof of this. I got singled out being the only one on the front row below 60, and of course, the shtick of ribbing "the young person."

Young person? Me, who sees my biological time clock racing faster and stealing my breath, letting others wrapped in social media, convince me that I'm a horse about to get put out to pasture. No longer the confused, cocky 19 year-old and not necessarily wanting to be. Thinking death is all that lies ahead until I'm reminded of the ride-the trip along the way, and suddenly I stop thinking I'll be dusty, smelling of moth balls, wearing nurse shoes and humming New Edition when-if- I turn 84.

These people before my eyes may struggle but if they do, it's in glitter and under stage lights. They will dance from cradle to grave and oh, the journey is worth the pain of birth, the fear of death. Everything that we can see if we allow ourselves to try. All the living that can be done-that will be done as trivial as kicking rocks on a dusty road en route to the movies on summer vacations in Juarez before it was called murder city, weaving past sidewalk foot traffic and gazing up at The Ansonia thinking "one day", Griffith Park sky lines and views to my Los Feliz digs that promise dreams coming true, San Francisco days at Dolores Park and in the Sunset reeking havoc then moonlight hikes up Bernal Hill, Vancouver sunset on Wreck Beach, Portland stroll on Mississippi Ave, San Diego Trolley ride to Henry's market, Park Slope-dog run, Prospect Park, New School and AMDA, fertile ground that sprung my dreams to reality, friendly bodega on 5th and Sackett-4th floor President St walk up and a kooky landlord, Fremont Blvd leading to Secret Sidewalk-Irvington District-Pathfinder Village-the wild child's stomping grounds....and it's not over...no where near.

I'm looking at these dancers and one day I am them...I'm not going gently into that good good night. Hell no. I'm not old. I'll never be old. Maybe a little ragged around the ages, but the kid will always be dancing in the moonlight young.