A New Year

 

This fictional story was written for the Trifecta Week 106 where it is stipulated that my response must be between 33 and 333 words.  • I must use the 3rd definition of the given word in my post.  • The word itself needs to be included in my response.  • I may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated.  • Only one entry per writer.  •  Trifecta is open to everyone, so feel free to join in and link up!  This week's challenge word is:

 tush

1. a long pointed tooth; especially : a horse's canine

2. an interjection used to express disdain or reproach

3. buttocks (slang)

     The atmosphere in the nightclub was electric, the strobe lights keeping time with the rock and roll band performing on stage to a near capacity crowd.  Balloons and streamers cascaded from every nook and cranny.  There wasn’t a soul in the whole establishment that wasn’t celebrating tonight…the last night of the year.

       “I simply love this song!  We must dance!” she proclaimed to her best friend as she downed another shot of tequila before heading back to the dance floor with her 2014 tiara slightly askew.  She rushed to a crowded spot directly in front of the stage and shook her tush with reckless abandon to the beat along with everyone else, punching her fist in the air as she danced.  She let out a scream of approval.  The band answered her gyrations with a driving killer beat and sizzling guitar licks.  Caught up in the euphoria of the night, the whole night club seemed to vibrate with expectancy and exhilaration.

       As midnight loomed, the excitement escalated.  A minute till midnight, the band ceased playing.  She joined the rest of the crowd chanting the countdown to the New Year as they watched the ball drop in Times Square on the clubs giant plasma television mounted behind the band.  Hundreds of balloons dropped, confetti flew, and a New Year was born full of hope, promise, and shouts of Happy New Year by every reveler.

Elvis- BFF 221

      Elvis is one of those rare performers that come along that is not only good but legendary.  His voice, his style, and his moves were unique and shaped rock and roll.  It is no wonder why he has been pegged as the King of the genre. Every song he recorded defined an era.  Amazingly enough while some performers and their work is regulated into dusty archives and history books, Elvis’s music lives on.

       Another thing that really set him apart was the way he danced.  Back in the 1950’s people didn’t shake their package around.  It simply wasn’t done.  It is not that my parent’s generation didn’t know about $ex or how to be wild.  It happened behind closed doors and was rarely discussed.  Television and movies were “G” rated.  They didn’t throw it out there in your face.  It is no wonder that girls went ape $hit and guys struggled to look like him.  He was the epitome of cool and sex appeal.  Elvis elicited raw hormones and excitement that without any doubt gave ladies the notion to throw their panties on the stage and scream themselves silly.

   

         I remember vividly one time when my mom and I were watching TV and Rod Stewart came on wearing hot pink spandex pants that left little to the imagination.  He sang “Do You Think I’m Sexy?”  My mother’s eyes bugged out of her head and her jaw dropped.  Here was a woman that grew up during a time period when Elvis shaking everything he had was shocking and she just about lost it.  It was funny to see and I will never forget the look on her face.  The only difference between Elvis and Rod Stewart was that Elvis wasn’t sporting skin tight spandex.  Elvis left more to the imagination.  My mom would be blown away by the music videos and lyrics that are prevalent today.

       In this day and age, Elvis would be pretty tame compared to LMFAO’s video performance of “I’m Sexy and I Know It” or pretty much anything Lady Gaga would have to offer.  As a generation we have kind of gotten used to being shocked to the point where simply nothing amazes us anymore.   We are used to seeing a lot of skin.  Elvis had the whole package.  He had the look, the shock value, and a fabulous voice that could make “I’m a Little Teapot” sound good. 

         35 years have passed since his death and still his legendary music and mannerisms live on.  People still attempt to imitate him and his songs are still played.   It is little wonder that when Elvis left the building for the last time, the world mourned his loss.  People still flock to Graceland to experience his magic first hand.  No matter how hard people try to duplicate his magic and mystique they soon discover, there will only ever be one Elvis until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

Breathless

This is a fictional story written for the GBE2's writing prompt.  I hope you enjoy it.

       Of course she knew him.  They had a class together.  He sat in front of her.  Occasionally he would say hello before taking his seat or smirk when he handed papers back to her, but that was all.  She had a secret crush on him and loved him from afar.  He was gorgeous and perfect and successful at every sport he participated in.  She would have had to have been blind and stupid not to lust after him.  Hell half the student body were in the same boat!  Even a guy would lust after him.  He was that good looking.  Each day she would rush to school in the hopes of catching a glimpse of him.  It was like a game between her and her friends.  

          One day the teacher had decided to pair them up in groups of two and to her delight and horror she was stuck with Mr. Wonderful.  Holy hell, what would she do?  What could she say that wouldn’t make her look like a blubbering idiot?  He was smooth.  She would give him that.  If he noticed how uncomfortable he made her, he gave no clue.  She tried to remember to breathe and act normal.  He seemed oblivious.  When the bell rang, he grabbed his books, flashed her one of his drop dead gorgeous smiles and a little wave and left her breathless.

         She left the room in a daze to meet her friends who were all excited about that night’s dance.  They were all going.  It was going to be a blast, and to be honest she couldn’t wait.  She didn’t think she could stomach watching Mr. Wonderful dancing with someone else, but what choice did she have?  She was certain she barely registered on his radar.  Still, it would be fun to get all dressed up.  It really didn’t matter that she didn’t have a date, she had her friends and that is all that mattered.  At least she wouldn’t be alone.

        There was an air of excitement in the air when she arrived at the dance.  The DJ played excellent dance music and she laughed, danced, and thoroughly enjoyed herself with her friends.  Then the DJ announced a slow one.  She headed to the side line with her friends as couples quickly formed on the dance floor.  Maybe she would get a drink of water.  She peered on to the dance floor searching for him.  Where was he?  She knew he was there.  Her friends soon began an animated conversation about who was with whom.  All of a sudden there was a collected gasp, and her friends were silent.  She turned to discover Mr. Wonderful heading purposefully straight for them.  Holy hell!!  He was looking right at her!  Certainly not!  It couldn’t be!  He stopped in front of her and smiled his sexy grin, and asked quite politely if she would like to dance.  Her jaw dropped and her mind went fuzzy.  There has to be a mistake.  She felt a sharp jab in her arm as her closest friend in the world attempted to jar her back into reality.  He held out his hand and without a word she took it.   He led her out onto the dance floor and spun her into his arms.

        Their eyes locked.  He smiled and she smiled back.  He whirled her around the dance floor and she felt as if she was floating.  As the song ended and the music died away, he kissed her leaving her breathless.  A rousing beat had begun and other people began dancing frantically around them.  “I didn’t know you knew I existed!” she burst out.  He laughed.  “How could I not know?” he asked.  Ever since the first moment I saw you I have been summoning up the courage to let you know how I felt.  I knew if I kissed you I would know for sure if it was all in my imagination.  Now she was confused.  What the hell was he talking about?  She smiled and said “Well, what did you figure out?”  He took her hand and led her off the dance floor.  He looked at her again, turned a little red, and admitted “You leave me breathless”.   “How did you know?” she asked in a whisper.  He leaned closer to hear the words “You leave me breathless too!”
  

       Over 50 years later they sat side by side holding hands on their front porch watching the sun set into the horizon.  A lifetime had passed since that long ago night filled with too many breathless moments to count.  She glanced his way and caught a much older Mr. Wonderful gazing back.  He took her hand and said “You still leave me breathless”.

I Hope -BFF 190

 

 
    When my children were born I remember gazing into their small precious faces with so much love, joy, and hope in my heart.  Even today most of my hopes rest on them and their futures.

              
               

     

        I hope they travel through this life armed with faith and hope.   I hope the L0rd will follow them all the days of their lives protecting them and healing them when needed.  No matter what they choose to do in life, I hope they discover what makes their hearts beat with passion, what makes them the most happy, and I hope no matter what, they approach life with wonder and joy.  If they find what makes them happy, I hope they grasp it with both hands and never let go.  Most of all, I hope they dance.

         I hope I live long enough to watch them grow, fall in love, marry, and have children of their own.  I hope to see my grandchildren one day, spoil them with hugs and kisses, and hold them in my arms.  I hope to have the whole lot over for big holiday meals filled with laughter and tasty food.


         I hope that my husband and I will have many long happy years together.  No matter how lean things may be, I hope our hearts will always be able to focus on the joy of life instead of on the sorrow.  I hope we have the strength to see us through whatever we must.  I hope when life is drawing to a close we are together.  I hope we dance.  Having faith, hope, and trust and a pinch of pixie dust allowed Peter Pan to fly.  With the same faith, hope, and trust I hope I not only soar through life with a smile on my face and a giggle in my heart, I hope more than anything that I dance.  Ideally I hope I am always surrounded by the people I love best and the furry friends that I adore.

     
        No matter what life holds for me, I hope more than anything I will always have the ability to find happiness and a reason to dance until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

Parenting: Comforting Kids After Life’s Disappointments

         The worst part about parenting is comforting your child when their dreams are dashed and the fire that once shown so brightly flickers and dies.   I have watched from the sidelines with an overwhelming sense of pride as my daughter performed at past dance class watch weeks and recitals.  I couldn’t help but notice how my daughter’s eyes burned with the fire and passion she was feeling as she performed or the unequivocal joy that lit up her face.  Her salient movements as she moved across the floor to the rhythm of the music always left me transfixed.  I laughed myself silly when she struck Michael Jackson poses, mimicking the his dancing style with a quick grab to her crotch and the  ability to flex her a$$ to perfection. 

       With a heavy heart I witnessed the light leave her eyes when she read the missive for dance classes for the upcoming school year that arrived by mail.  The head of the dance department had recommended she be placed in the next level of ballet/tap classes that  normally followed the level she had completed the previous year.   With a look of devastation, my daughter handed me the paper and told me in dismay that it was recommended she take a class with 6 year olds!   A slap in the face for a girl soon to be the ripe old age of 11.  Even worse, a ballet class for her age group was being offered by invitation only.  The big problem was that she was not invited.  With that one letter, my daughters dreams of dancing were wiped out and the fire in her eyes was extinguished.  

         The next day I contacted the powers that be to inquire if in fact there had been a mistake, a typo of some sort.  Surely it could not be!! Last year her instructor had raved about her ability praising her constantly and now this???  I wanted to put that woman on the spot for dashing my daughter’s dreams.  The answer was much as I had figured.  She had simply been placed in the next level.  The teacher assured me the ages didn’t mean a thing and my daughter would once again be dancing with her friends from the year before.    My daughter was certain she was being placed with the little kids as punishment because she really wasn’t good enough.  Her disappointment was palpable.  Her heart hardened and her dance shoes are now buried in the deepest recesses of her closet, regardless of the fact the woman claimed she had been the best dancer in her class the year before.  



          Even though the lady practically pleaded that my daughter continue to dance, the damage had been done.  There are  days when being a parent is harder than others.  I wish I could protect her and keep her from hurts felt from being uninvited.  If I didn’t have to maintain a level of decorum, I would drive right over to that school, wait till she comes out, and kindly flip her off.  I think even an old fashioned drive by mooning would make me feel better!!  Surely faced with my big smiley bare a$$ she would get the message that she could kiss old rose and shove her dancing program where the sun fails to shine.   Such a stunt would leave me laughing hysterically for weeks to come but wouldn’t solve anything.   With my luck I would be arrested for exposing myself.  

          Instead I chose to embrace my daughter in a huge bear hug and dry her tears.   I chose to encourage her to try all the new things that interest her and explore all the possibilities that the world has to offer.   There is more to life than dance.  I encouraged her to move on and look back fondly on her dancing days with a smile in her heart.  Until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.