Bump, Grind... Nah, justa touch.....

I don't have two left feet - I'm just "too white." <-- That explains my dance skills, or lack thereof.

Don't remember where it was, what shape I was in, or shockingly why I was on the dance floor - but I was bumped. 1970-something, and it was a revelation. Truth be told, it was kinda erotic, a 'good' kinda feel. It was someone saying "Hey... you're Ok.. I like you."

Fast forward a buncha years to a tired, bored old fart walking into the bar to listen to his favorite band.... GD bouncer felt sorry for me... as I strolled in hidden amongst the 20-somethings - he caught the eyes of the chicky taking the cover charge at the door... nodded... and I was waved on in. Yippee. AARP night at The Landing <-- joint where I upon occasion hibernate.

From my little corner barstool - I'd have a soda.. then a beer.. another soda... and another beer.. I was alone, but not lonely.. I was tremendously enjoying the Janis Joplin soundalike lead singer chicky.. and the lead guitar player who played Purple Rain even better than that Formally Known guy..

Suddenly, a team of 12 or so 20-something women's softball players rolled in the door - and they were a pleasure to watch.. Fun.. Living life they were... Males at the joint were outnumbered perhaps 7 to 1. In my several trips to the John I don't think I recall any of them complaining.

When one (man) finally had the courage to get on the dance floor - the whole damn 'infield' of the softball team surrounded him... Grinding they did. Holy shit. You ole codger, ain't you never seen grinding before? Yes, reckon I have - but I'd never seen someone triple or quadruple teamed by lassies in tight shorts, T-shirts... girls having Fun, capitol F. The feeling those guys musta had... Somewhere between embarrassment, "is this heaven?" and "shit, I think I'd better turn around away from the audience."

When the stock of men dwindled further - up walks two of the lassies - and they tug on my sleeve. Oh hells no. Huh uh. I'm too white.. I can't.. I'd look ridiculous.. I'd faint.. I'd be embarrassed.. People'd think I was a sicko perverted old man.. "but thanks anyway." All that is fancy for "GD I'm never leaving home again without my Nitro." I truly was flattered - and I know they were being nice - but aside from all that..... the point was.. .they were enjoying life.. they were saying "hi.. you seem nice... I like you."

Bump. Grind. I like you.

I was gonna bore anyone reading this to sleep with the idea of: listing the names of people that I care about them being on the planet. If I awakened tomorrow and your name is in the obits - I'd truly be affected. I started a list in my brain - and I'm so GD thankful it went on and on and on. Many are from today - many from years ago - many younger - many older - many related - many not - many were co-workers - many were not.

Bump. Grind. Touch. I, Victor K. so-and-so, do hereby promise to "touch" those that I care about. They say, if we die, only perhaps a handful would care. In our stages of life - people pass in and out. I love many, and I've loved many.

Without sending a GD email to tell them (and threatening "you'll tumble down an embankment off the interstate if you don't forward this to 27 people in three minutes"), I do hereby promise to try and 'touch' those I love. Those who've helped form these GD wrinkles from all the smiles they conjured up on my face.

I challenge you. If there's someone you care about (and I ain't necessarily talking the "boinking" kinda care).. but if there's someone you care about.. simply tell 'em. Or touch 'em. I think we all know how nice it is to hear something like that - and it's even nicer to tell someone. Between the bumps and grinds of life, touch someone. Bye bye now.

(Editor's note: Then, if there are those assholes who tell a co-worker "nope, ya can't go to Happy Hour with the footsoldiers or we'll fire yourass" - simply leave that person alone. They too have touched, but it left a stain. Let's surround ourselves with good - and step away from yuck.)