We danced all night at a club in Harlem. He was 24, and I was a lot older than that, but it didn't matter because we had fun.
Red Rooster was off the had a diverse group of people, all ages, grinding to Timbaland, Tupac, Kanye West, Flo Rider, and we were all on the same page about dancing in the dark, sexy basement of a restaurant in Manhattan. Upstairs there was restaurant,
The mood and ambiance that night reminded me of a club on Miami Beach, twenty years ago, where I spent the entire night dancing Hip Hip so close and tight to others it seemed we were in a cave doing a ritual to an ancient goddess: it was type of night I never forgot--the salty-air wafted in from the opened Bahama shutter windows of the club right off beach. Everyone moved in the slow motion of a soul in heat, beyond the beat, and beyond the hours. We traveled across time to a meditation on sensual, beautiful bodies in constant, raw motion and tattooed that memory to timelessness. I thought I would have hundreds of experiences like that one, but never again, at least not in the same way, with the smell of salt, sweat, perfume, and a possessed allegiance to the dance
This time in NYC, my date Alvin was charming and funny, and he led with his slick, smooth moves, which I followed effortlessly for more than 6 hours, grinding into his hips, hands, and buttocks. Every once in awhile he mouthed the songs of some old school RUN DMC the DJ was playing.
Alvin was happy, young, and so was I. I let him lead, let him be the man, because one day I knew he would be great one with all his dreams of putting books for young boys in every barber shop in Harlem and his pursuit of masters in communication at Columbia University. More importantly, I learned something from Alvin, who I met online and had no interest in seeing until he convinced me to meet him at the club.
Now that I'm in my mid-forties, I was confused about how to define youth. What did it mean at my age? How would I to translate it? Did society's unspoken rules about appropriate and non-appropriate age behavior apply to me? I'm not one who lives by rules, but I've been in a transitional stage lately, leaving certain things behind and moving into the unknown. After divorcing and raising my children, I've wrestled with finding a new sense of self, freedom, and independence, all while honoring the past, living in the present, and welcoming the future.
While dancing with Alvin, I was astonished by his youth, soft skin, shyness, and inexperience. It seemed so long ago when I was in his shoes, with the same type of dreams, worries, anxieties. At the time, I sought the obvious, as if complexity, subtlety, and destiny were unimportant. My mindset was to conquer all and move on to the next best thing--pronto. But that stage was behind me: the stage of never being satisfied with any one thing and looking for something better around the next corner.
I had done much--earned degrees in college, pursued several careers in teaching, traveled, and had great relationships. I'd also been married, divorced, and raised two kids on my own. I lived through it all and learned something about myself in the process. I had no desire to go back to any of it. Mostly, I was not interested in being in my 20's again; That stage was done, especially my misunderstanding that life's great moments were to be experienced, hammered out and processed in less than a day. I was freer now, and after 6 hours of dancing Hip Hop, I said goodbye to youth and hello to youthfulness. My memoir, "The Continent of Ruby," available at:
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