Hot Fun in the Summertime

There are times when a single life can be fun. A hot summer Friday night was a great example.

Last Friday I was coming off a long, stressful work week. I wrote on my Facebook page, "I'm in dire need of getting my groove on." I had planned exactly that: I was going to a "Meetup" with some acquaintances to see the R&B/dance band the Time Bandits in Andrews Park in Vacaville. The gig was part of a summer series of "Creekwalk" concerts.

I met several members of the Meetup group seated in their camp chairs under the shade of a sycamore tree about 75 feet from the Creekwalk stage. The Time Bandits from nearby Fairfield were playing some infectious soul and dance music ranging from the 1960s to present day. I strutted and bumped to songs ranging from Kelly Clarkson's "Walk Away" to The Temptations' "I Can't Get Next to You." I think I fulfilled my daily dose of cardio in front of that stage.

The only guy in the group, whom I'll call "Gary," arrived with his camp chair. We met each other in late December during a meetup at a downtown Vacaville karaoke bar. The last time I saw Gary was in January at a dinner for another group. I found him to be a laid-back, solid person. He's probably 5'9", slim, and shaved bald. We greeted each other before he set up his chair next to mine.

The group members would chat among themselves despite the deafening music. I asked Gary why he wasn't dancing yet.

"I don't feel comfortable dancing with people I don't know," he replied.

"You know me," I thought but kept to myself.

Gary finally got up the nerve to get on the dance floor and ask a woman to dance. I shrugged and enjoyed the evening from my camp chair. There had to be at least a thousand people there of myriad races and ages, from a 7-month-old girl smiling in the arms of her dancing mother to a grizzled war veteran rolling in his wheelchair with his date. The heat subsided as the delta breeze picked up slightly. Everyone was friendly and encouraging of each other.

Later, the band started playing "My Girl." Gary stood and extended his hand to me. "Would you like to dance?" he asked.

I took his hand, stood, and said, "Sure."

We danced to song with a crowd of maybe 200 people under a waning moon.

After the dance, Gary thanked me and left shortly thereafter. I left a short time thereafter.

The evening gave me a sense of joy. And neither the arthritis in my right foot nor the plantar fasciitis in my left bothered me, even when I was boogieing.

So, if you see me with what I call "happy cheeks," you know why.

Writing Diva

Nelson Mandela: Bittersweet Birthday

Today, anti-apartheid leader and former South African President Nelson Mandela is marking his 95^th birthday in a hospital bed in Pretoria.

Although his doctors say his health is steadily improving from a lung infection, at the risk of sounding pessimistic, I sense this may be the last birthday that he and his family celebrate.

The Nobel Peace Prize winner spent 27 years in prison after being convicted of sabotage and conspiracy to overthrow the government. Following a successful international lobbying campaign, Mandela was released in 1990. Shortly thereafter, he embarked on a world tour, which included a visit to U.S. cities, including Oakland, California.

As a reporter for the Fairfield-Suisun City Daily Republic, I covered his final stop of his U.S. tour at the Oakland Coliseum. I pestered my city editor, saying that this was a once-in-a-lifetime event and that all San Francisco Bay Area media needed to cover this, especially since I knew several Solano County residents who would attend Mandela’s visit. My city editor relented.

When I arrived at the Coliseum on Saturday, June 30, 1990, I was surrounded by 58,000 people and media crews from throughout California and other countries. I worked the stands and interviewed two Vallejo residents and Seretha Jefferson of Fairfield, who wore a broad-brimmed straw hat and flowery dress to see Mandela. Once on the ground, Mandela appeared onstage, as music played and the chorus sang: “Freeeee Nelson Mandela!”

I admit at that point I lost all objectivity and danced and cheered on the field. Epic journalism fail.

Quoting The New York Times story of his Oakland visit, “the deputy president of the African National Congress smiled broadly and told the crowd, ‘Despite my 71 years, at the end of this visit I feel like a young man of 35. I feel like an old battery that has been recharged. And if I feel so young, it is the people of the United States of America that are responsible for this.’”

My story ran in the Daily Republic on page 1 as a sidebar to Associated Press coverage on Mandela’s visit. I was humbled to have been half a football field from greatness.

My prayers are with Mr. Mandela, his family, his friends, and his country.

Writing Diva