Welcome to the first little tommy blog. Apparently there are no educational, intellectual, or institutional requirements to be a blogger. Nor, it seems, are there any restrictions on content. Hell that's like waving a red cape in front of a bull. I can say any FUCKIN' thing I want to! Now how can I not love bloggin'!
My hope is, that these weekly pontifications will inform, amuse, offend, inspire, and always entertain. I hope they will never be boring to those of you who choose to read them. The subject matter will center around the "shag" community. Consisting of thoughts, opinions, and recollections regarding our music, our dance, the dancers, the joints, and the many interesting, unique, and colorful cast of charcters that make our community anything but normal and boring.
From time to time I will venture outside of "our world", into that other world. As we all are aware, that other world is pretty damn messy right now, so I'll mostly stay here where it's a little safer and warmer.
It occurs to me that we are somewhat fortunate to have our "shag world" to retreat to. No, you don't have to remind me that it is populated with, and sometimes ruled by, dysfunctional ego maniacs. I know this can be a source of severe irratation, but in the big picture, those folks are fairly harmless. I rather think of the "shag world" as a big dysfunctional cocoon. It's sort of a , "if you can't say anything nice about anyone, come sit by me" place. But as quick as we are to criticize, we seem to be just as quick to hug and forgive.
We'll pass the hat in a heart beat for one of our own. We'll have a dance contest, an auction, or a half and half raffle to raise money for a charity or other cause we deem worthy. Oh, then there's the Shaggers Hall of Fame Foundation and all the good works they do. If you have a little history on the beach, you might not find someone to lend you money for your car payment, but within ten feet they'll be twenty people who will buy you a drink to help ease your pain.
It's been my experience that money is not the measure most hardcore beach people use to judge people by. Money is for drinks, breakfast, and a place to lay your head. Money might buy you a nice pair of black suede "dance" shoes, or a couple of "mirror" steps, but money can't buy you a history on the beach. You either have one or you don't. If you hear someone referred to as a "player" at the beach, they didn't buy that designation, they earned it over the years.
Dysfunctional?...Yea a lot of times I guess our little community is. Still, if I'm out on a ledge, I'd feel pretty good about havin' a lot of them sittin' out there with me. I'm comfortable in our little world. I feel fortunate to have it to retreat to. I hope I get to stay in it for many years to come.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
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