Singer, Helen Shapiro, who last week underwent a procedure…
However, as Arnold Schwarzenegger once stated, “I am back.” Did he say, “I will be back,” instead? Nevertheless, now that I am here, I feel a lot more like myself.
This week, as I sat on my couch and brooded over the fact that I had not seen anyone, I realized that my friend Beryl, who lives across the street, was most likely doing the same thing.
Our lives are not supposed to be spent like this. Life is meant to be enjoyed.
I thought I was the greatest DJ to have ever played for a stadium full of people. In actuality, though, there was just Beryl and I; we resembled Hinge and Bracket.
We spent thirty minutes remembering about the dances we liked and the songs we connected with each boy we went out with after exhausting ourselves with the boogying.
We went back to the days of coffee shops, miniskirts, backcombing our hair, and heels—which at the time certainly caused serious damage to our knees, but we did not know or care at all.
Placing the phone against my iPad, I began to play my favorite songs from the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s.
I sometimes stopped the music to make sure Beryl was following along. It became out that she was. I was also like that.
Helen Shapiro performed Walking Back to Happiness, followed by Paul Anka’s Diana. Roy Orbison makes us cry, so I skipped him. Before I knew it, we were laughing uncontrollably and dancing.
