There are different ways to celebrate the first weekend after surviving the first week of school this Labor Day, but this has been the most fun. One of my friends got a VIP table for the David Bowie Tribute AIDS fundraiser and invited me to be a part of the group
I was especially happy when she said that dressing up was involved since Halloween is my favorite holiday. What did not cross my mind, not even once, was that I should dress up in some David Bowie-inspired costume. I think David Bowie would have approved of my attire. Anytime a black woman is motivated to wear a long white wig has to be a great moment–along with the dramatic black and white dress that Mom gave me one Christmas, and topped off with black glittery lip gloss!
The opening band played a selection of Bowie songs that got the crowd warmed up and had me chair dancing. Although I recognized most of the songs, I had the special treat of hearing some of his songs for the first time ever. I noticed that others around me were much more hardcore Bowie friends than I and could sing along with every song.
During the break between the opening and headlining bands, one of my friends and I went to the bathroom together, which women are damn near legally and morally obliged to do, and we killed some time with bathroom poses.
After all, we were all writers and performers in addition to our day jobs. So when we get dressed up to hang out and listen to good music, posing is inevitable.
As long as I train capoeira to maintain muscle tone and yoga for flexibility, I’m gonna flaunt it.
Even so, my critical eye sees that my legs are slowly losing muscle tone! When I was in my early 30s, a woman in her mid-50s told me that once a woman reaches her 40s, no amount of exercising helps. At 42.9, I’m not ready to throw in the towel. At least I can maintain my youthful attitude–or even take up an exercise that’s supposed to be really good for leg toning, but I love to hate, RUNNING.
Just as we were about to exit the bathroom, a third woman from our table joined us, and took command of my camera for a paparazzi shot.
One good turn deserves another!
I always love it when my rebellious dreadlocks peek out from under the illusion of a long, flowing wig. Of course, until I actually buy a wig brush, my wigs eventually lock up as well. Just proving that dreadlocks are mightier than parallel hair.
So, the headlining band took a little too long to set up and play for four creative women and three smart phones.
But who knows when a truly artistic masterpiece will emerge with all the special lighting, special effects, costuming and make up collide for an incredible image?
Finally, they hit the stage. Even with a long blonde wig, I recognize the lead guitarist as the guy who was with the VIP table beside us. I thought it was cool that his parents, who looked in their 70s, still came out to watch their son perform.
The costuming was even more spectacular for this band than the first and they sounded fantastic. I was singing along with all the songs I knew, which for me, is a far more enjoyable experience than karaoke.
We had to go down on the floor in shifts since the other women didn’t want to take their purse. I’m just the opposite. I don’t care if a purse takes away from my attire, I’m keeping my purse! Plus, I pack light.
Toward the end of the evening, I was persuaded to go downstairs near the stage. I discovered when I got down there that there was a $5 bet on whether I and the other woman would actually go downstairs and dance. We certainly did. After about a song and a half, my age caught up with me. I casually went into my purse and retrieved some earplugs. Ahhhhh!
At one point, I left the dance floor and waltzed straight into an empty bathroom stall. As I secured the door, my ear plugged muted hearing detected a woman saying, “We’re waiting in line!” A statement which I certainly agreed with since I was in a stall and apparently they were not. Yet, in my defense, when I walked into the bathroom, I had made a beeline into the empty stall without even registering that there was a line. I did see other women, but I could’ve sworn they were either at the sink or standing to the side looking at their phones. Now that I replay the whole scene, the women looking at their phones were probably the same ones who were waiting in line, but regardless of the technology, “you snooze, you lose,” is a timeless truism. Plus, since I didn’t have to wait in line, I returned to the dance floor while the band was just finishing up the same song I’d been dancing to when I’d left.
Despite how good the two bands were, I must admit my disappointment in not hearing “Major Tom” and “Man Who Sold the World.” I’m wondering if bands have to pay big bucks to cover those two obvious hits. One hit that came on time was walking out of the club at the end of the night and seeing APD craziness across the street. Usually I’m ticked off when a picture comes out blurry, but in this case, I think my camera captured the moment perfectly. After listening to an evening of fun music with a mostly costumed crowd, what a completely different reality to witness. As one inebriated homeless guy pointed out to us as he swaggered by, “Looks like Christmas.” I’m glad Santa forgot about me this time.
