Prom time is just about here, so I decided to take a break from the serious issues of the day this week.
I never actually went to prom when I was in high school, in spite of growing up in the town with
the world's best prom. (That's how they bill it, really. Once upon a time, the Rotary Club brought in such superstars as Tommy Dorsey, Duke Ellington, Stan Kenton, and Buddy Rich to play at the city-wide after-prom party they sponsor to keep kids under supervision and out of each other's pants; but after-proms with those big-name performers were well before my salad days. The Rotary Club dance continues to this day, however, with live cable TV coverage of the kids arriving in their finery.)
The last school dance I went to was in the eighth grade, where I discovered how grossly inadequate was the dance instruction that had been part of elementary school P.E.
I believe our prom theme was "A Stairway to Heaven" (wasn't everybody's?), and I can only assume that what paltry do-si-do and allemand-left skills I might have retained would be no more useful there than they had been in the eighth grade.
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