I am particularly fond of 70’s disco bands that used real musicians, especially horn sections, instead of synthesized sounds. Think KC and the Sunshine Band; think Kool and the Gang. Yeah. Those guys.
Disco has a place in my home. When I clean house, I must have a dance playlist pumping put the tunes to keep me going, pushing through the various messes and ick that need to be taken care of. Sometimes it is 80s techno or 00s pop, but most recently, I’ve had a taste for my old faves.
Now. Let’s set the mood. Before reading the rest of this post, go listen to this. Crank it up. I’m Your Boogie Man.
Do you hear it? Ahhhh.
Okay. So, I’ve got some cleaning and disinfecting to do. I’ve also got a teen-aged daughter who needed some motivation to help… a soundtrack for sweat. I put KC and the Sunshine Band on 11; then the sneer came – the look of abject horror on my girl’s face as she watched me work it around the kitchen. If a look could bury one’s mother, in a cave, 5 miles deep, she had it.
“What?!” I hollered over the music,” don’t you like it? Come on! Dance with me!”
She responded by crossing her arms and rolling her eyes, and went off to finish dusting.
I was a little sad. How? How could my very own offspring not love my music?
Fast forward a few days. KC was on the kitchen speaker again; “I’m your Boogie Man” blasting full volume. I was out of sight in my room, when my daughter came into the house. I could tell she was there; she could not see me. I was planning on jumping out to startle her when she inevitably walked past my doorway.
It was beautiful. I couldn’t have asked for a better set-up. Right before I jumped out behind her, she raised her arms high above her head; she began to sway and jump. My baby! Dancing to disco. The same music she rolled her eyes at. It was glorious. I pounced. She screamed.
She knew I saw. I saw. She couldn’t hide her shame. Hahahaha.
I’m YOUR Boogie Man.