Back in the 1970's, long before the workout guru's Jane Fonda and Richard Simmons, my sister and I moved to the groove of record spinners on Soul Train.
In those days,I was a sophmore in high school and my sister, unemployed, spent her life lying on the sofa smoking cigarettes and sipping from the bottle of vodka she had hidden behind the sofa, she even went so far as to attach a string to avoid moving the sofa to retrieve it. One day she had me called down to the principal's office to tell me to bring home a pack of Marlboro's and a six pack of Miller High Life. I was traumatized, I thought someone had died in the family.
On Saturday, we put on our workout clothes and danced to Soul Train with the ultra hip, sultry stylings of Don Cornelius. We did the bump, the hustle and some strange version of the funky chicken. We worked up a sweat, and celebrated with a high carb dinner of spaghetti spatini and garlic bread, it was a zero sum gain.
Now, all of America has Dancing with the Stars, and I must say Tom Bercheron can't hold a candle to DC. Don Cornelius had it all, style, sex appeal, the voice. Not to mention the best music and dancers on the west coast. No need for the superficial glitter, fake tans, exposed midrift or effeminate judges. We heard rumors that the Soul Train dancers were professionals, engenues trying to break into show business. Maybe so, but the show was damn good and after a little swig of vodka and a couple of cigarettes, my sister and I could busta move with the best.
Love, Peace and Soul