You wouldn’t know it to look at me of course.
When people look at me they see this:
and this:
and this:
But when we’re little, we absorb so much. All of that influences who we become – at least to some degree. And regardless of what the outside reflects, on the inside I run 98 ° Disco (Fahrenheit or Celsius depends on the day).
On the inside, I look like this:
and this:
and this:
Because when I was little, I went to Auntie’s house.
Auntie (which is phonetically pronounced “Ahntie”) ran a daycare service in her New Rochelle, NY house. My brother, Matthew and I at age two and four, were just two kids in what felt like a nation of children who stayed with Auntie while their parents worked.
As with all childhood memories, the images I conjure up are BIG: a massive dining room table where we’d all eat our Campbell’s Soup for lunch (hiding Lima beans in our pockets), the long flight of stairs up to her front door, the expanse of plastic slip covered sofa where we were not allowed to play…
The other kids at Auntie’s were mainly from the neighborhood, while Matthew and I lived in another town. They were boisterous and fearless where we were quiet and cautious. But we blended in. Soon enough, we laughed just as loud and played just as hard.
As the only white girl at Auntie’s, I was exotic for the first and only time in my plain jane life. My hair fell flat where theirs could be sculpted into shapes. My nose turned pink after time in the sun. And my hazel eyes would sometimes look green while theirs stayed the deepest of browns.
On the outside I couldn’t be more different. But not on the inside. My new friends marveled over my otherness but only for the novelty. Little girls are far too landlocked by their constant quest for common ground to be distracted for long. All little girls giggle in harmony, speak the language of fairy tales and whisper universal secrets that only fade with puberty.
My brother’s bright chestnut head was the only distinguishing feature in the blur of boys tearing through the house, as boys are even less concerned with external appearance. While the girls initially wanted to stroke my head and pinch my cheeks, the boys barely paused to pull Matthew into their hectic orbit. Pushing him to keep up or get out of the way. There wasn’t time for scrutiny.
But what I remember most about Auntie’s house was the music.
Auntie had teenagers who filled the house with more than just their presence. Arriving home after 3:00, they played their music loudly. Music from 1976 that commanded you to hustle, boogie and shake, shake, shake. Floors and walls pulsed with the sound of drums, bass and horn sections. Every movement of the teenagers kept time with these rhythms and they pulled us all in their wake.
During school hours when the teenagers weren’t there, the little kids would still hustle and boogie. We would sing the songs and choreograph dances. The boys would lose interest quickly, but the girls worked diligently to perfect routines.
I would bring these home and was frequently asked to perform Boogie Fever for visiting friends and relatives. I didn’t like or understand their gales of laughter. There was dignity in my disco.
As memorable as our time at Auntie’s was, it wasn’t very long. Just a year or two. Just long enough for a little disco to grab hold and not let go. And I would carry that always. First as a secret shame in the 80s – then as a triumphant comeback years later.
I rarely listen to the radio anymore. Instead I spend my commute reading via recorded books. There is so little time at home, making this the only way that I can feed my cravings for stories. But the kids are getting older now – no longer babies, but small children who like to dance and giggle as they try to sing along with their favorite songs.
I find that I frequently turn off my stories and listen to theirs (or at least Eleanor’s). Their exclamations over the world whizzing past now require a response. They need me to be actively engaged in their wonder.
So instead I turn on the radio. Now that it’s warm, I put the windows down. I yell at the kids to keep their hands inside, but secretly want to push my own palm against the press of air. I sing along with the songs I know – and even the ones I don’t know. And feel wave after wave of sense memories from high school when driving with the windows down and music blasting was a given.
Then the opening notes of something familiar distract me. I feel very young inside, far younger than I did in my previous reverie. If I close my eyes I can hear the sound of girlish giggling and possibly even feel the ghost of a small hand running through my hair (unless of course, that’s Oliver who just escaped from his seat belt).
But I don’t close my eyes (because you know, I’m driving) and I know that the giggles are coming from my own children who apparently like Donna Summer too. I turn up the volume. On the Radio transports me to a time when I had so few worries and responsibilities (other than covert disposal of the hated Lima beans). And I think that maybe I’ll do this more often, not just for me, but for the three little people in the back seat.
They are absorbing the world around them in the same way I did, and they need more music in their day. Particularly in the car when they have nothing to do but look and listen. They need a rythm to tap with their feet, a melody to lift up their hearts, and possibly a strings section for effect. They need more than Twinkle Twinkle Little Star…they need Donna Summer and Stevie Wonder and Barry White. They need music with impossible high notes and finger snapping backup vocalists. They need a soundtrack. One you can dance to.
Because I think they’ve got a little disco in their souls too.
This is one of my favorite posts of yours EVER! Loved it. Your photos at the top brought a real smile to my face, and then your memories made me smiler wider and laugh out loud. I highlighted one of your lines – There was dignity in my disco – and just love it! I'm sure you're right – I'm sure they've got a little disco in their souls too. Fabulous post Kate – I love that had time to write it. I miss your long posts like this – but totally understand that your hands are MORE than full at the moment! Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to go put on some my favorite tunes and dance around my living room!
This is GREAT Kate. I completely agree – in fact everyone can use a little donna summer.
remember when you brought disco to New Providence?
You mentioned a lot of my favorites but you left out "Play That Funky Music White Boy" I loved those thumping bass lines – the ones you could actually hear. Which is mostly the ones that came out before car subwoofers did. Great post!
Oh, I love you even more now! And it's so funny– you were always Charlotte in my head- Seriously. But so much cooler. And Charlotte didn'e do disco. :)
I love this! I think that disco balls make everything better. That, and Abba!
Love this post!
My forever lingering love of disco and dance music was ingrained in me as a child when my parents bought our first home stereo. One of the first albums they bought was the soundtrack to Saturday Night Fever, and from there, my Mom became enamored with the Bee Gees, so our collection of their albums grew from there. We used to watch Dance Fever after dinner and practice the moves that the host taught at the end of the show, and when my parents signed up for an adult ed class in disco dance, I was in heaven, because it meant my Dad would come home later and teach me! Very rarely can I hear a 70s night on the radio and not think of those evenings in my family's living room.
You are a very talented writer – loved it!
Great post. My biological dad wasn't much to write home about when we were growing up, but music was our thing. I love music! Most of what I sing to Arwen (and sang while I was pregnant) is 70s!
Also, my college psych professor is Kristin Davis' father!! I like to consider myself twice removed from a celebrity! :)
This is a great post. I can just picture you as a little girl shaking your thing to Donna Summer. I remember listening to Elton John as a kid, singing Benny & the Jets at the top of my lungs.
I try to expose Bunny to "my music". Sometimes she loves it, sometimes she just wants her stuff. But maybe just maybe it will be there deep down just waiting to come out and dance.
I simply LOVED this post. It was so descriptive and it took me right into Auntie's house with you. Thanks, Disco Girl!
I'm black on the inside too, except it's The Weather Girls and my song is It's Raining Men!
It's raining men! Hallelujah, it's raining men!
Oh kate You keep us laughing! It made me remember my days at daycare. Not as exciting as your however!! But Niece (denise but we called her neice) is still one of my best friends ever!
…do you have legwarmers and a headband too?
What great memories – awesome that your parents chose Aunties over other options. I can picture it too – you wrote about it so well – and I love it!
Such a great post! I love disco also—because I love to dance!
And techno also—you can just leave your mind and go with the beat—it invigorates the soul!
What awesome memories! I went to day care as a kid too… at the YMCA. They actually played the YMCA song all the time too, if you can believe it.
Wish you could have gone to the 70s disco party I went to last weekend – you would have had a blast!
great great post kate. when i come to the end of your posts i always want more. love the descriptions, the humor… o.k. you get it… happy day kate!
I totally have On the Radio stuck in my head now – I think I even used to own the album. And what about my personal favorite, Disco Duck? Can't forget the Duck.
Donna Summer was awesome! :) Good choice! And John Travolta in a leisure suit rocks my socks.. I wish he would start wearing those again! :)
This is a great post.. you can't judge people from appearances.. cause they could be a closet Donna Summer!
I like to have Dance Parties with my boss' kids. We started listening to the kids music channel (in the 900s on cable) but quickly moved to more modern stuff, they totally dig it. I love it when kids dance.
I love that you're Charlotte on the outside and disco on the inside. AWESOME POST!
Oh, how I LOVED reading this. Thanks for sharing it, Kate.
Wow, great job of taking us back to the halls of geekdom that were the 70's, when we all had to learn the Hustle and the Bump as a rite of passage. Every guy wanted to be Tony Manero, that's for damn sure.
Great writing! That's the way (uh huh uh huh) I like it.
Chris
cdmauger.blogspot.com
I listened to SNF for YEARS! Way past the time it was cool to do so. I still do now but not as often. I have the CD. what great memories it brings back. I have a slew of disco songs on my ipod and have no intention of ever removing them
That's a cute post! Now I know why you love to dance so much and why you're so good at it. I still love that picture of you and my brother dancing at my wedding. I should frame that one.
:)
haha great post! :) i'm still smiling.
I loved this post! We are definitely a Rockin'-Out-At-The-Tops-Of-Our-Lungs-In-The-Car kind of a family. We've got a lot more 80s going on in our mini-van, but we're no strangers to disco, either. I just love it when I hear one of my kids singing along to a song from my youth. There's a connectedness about music that reaches across the ages.
OMgosh do I love to dance. And disco… ABBA… disco in your soul. Love it!
What a great post :o) When I taught 3rd grade my class was a bit like 'club med'…we had to take a break every now and again, turn on some toons and just get the wiggles out…I actually learned that by doing so it released some natural chemicals in the brain that would actually lead to better concentration and learning for the day…to me, education cannot be all about book work, it's got to be about having a bit of fun, developing connections that are meaningful and real…and I know some of my fondest memories with my Mom were of dancing to Neil Diamond and Donna Summer :o)
Life is truly not about things, but about moments!
omg you had me at the pictures in the beginning but I couldn't stop after the lima beans in your pockets. What a fantastic post!
Love that I found you–looking forward to reading more–
Funny how we never really get old. Just our bodies. The rest of us remains young. Thank god.
I love that you shared this one for a fave. It's so good. Thank you!
This is great! One thing I've always thought about having my own kid(s) is how music will be a huge part of their life. It's a huge part of mine and I think Brent's world of music has expanded greatly since we met.
Of the two of us, he's the one with the disco in his soul. Me on the other hand? I've got more of a hippie in mine :)
Thanks for your brave post and for linking back to this one. I love it!
And again. I love this.
It’s probably been more than a year ago now, maybe two, but we both still boogie and “sing” along when it comes on. I fell in love with the song We are Young by Fun when it came out. Like big fell in love. And so I loaded it up next to Wheels on the Bus and Bohemian Rhapsody and some other children’s classics, and played it for my boy, in the car. He’d just started school (his PAC class), and normally, didn’t pay much attention. One day, I noticed he was sortof singing “young” and bopping his head. So of course I played it over and over and over, and now? He smiles, as soon as the first few notes play. And sings (sortof) “young” and “sun” when those are the lines. Ah, the power of music.
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