I spent yesterday in Dreamland. The skating rink. Twirling round and round in black light accent, center stage, toxically glowing and trucking to syncopating rhythm. A camel spin and a glide in reverse, a handstand with a kick of my leg, a back walkover and a clap under my back, a turn with a disco barrel tumble and then a screeching halt with jazz hand finish to a not so adoring teenage public. What’s wrong with kids these days? Don’t they know a star when they see one?
A roller disco STAR.
Thumbs tucked in belt loops, shoulders shrugging to the music; I take in the screen-printed advertisement, “Dreamland” only to realize my dreams of becoming a professional disco skater have been neglected and unfulfilled . Simultaneously realizing that a forty something roller boogie maniac can relive the moment.
Dreamland at nine dollars per session gave so much in return. A life misspent but the promise of reliving my youth came true... it truly is a Dreamland. I was one of the elite trucking in unison with kids who didn’t care if I was a has been roller disco queen but a partner to the beat of Apple Bottom Jeans. Magic, pure magic and it added at least forty-five minutes to my lifespan but my corns and bunions will last a lifetime.
Maybe it was the spandex pants or the gold lamé leotard but at that moment I was Linda Blair. Chucking a life of classically trained musicianship for the chance to get laid by a roller boogie grease monkey. A goofy hot roller boogie grease monkey. It started a love fire...and it’s raging out of control.
For the record and I go on the record here by saying this was the first movie to feature a classically trained upper class princess who gives it up to look for love in the streets. Of course there are variations on the theme, Flash Dance, Breakin’ 1 & 2, Save the Last Dance which launched the whole ballerinas gone bad industry.
Since the sad sad passing of my much beloved Farrah I have decided that Linda Blair is now the official patron saint of Mean Dirty Pirate. Long Live Linda!