Sunday, September 14, 2003

As she was in her ivory wedding gown, tea length, she opted out of crawling across the dance floor at her wedding reception alongside me and Michele. Hungry Like a Wolf. Duran Duran. Michele looked at me, Remember? I did. It was a dark and tipsy night at a gay bar with karaoke. I had been banned for over an hour for doing Leo Sayer's You Make Me Feel Like Dancin' in an authentic style of his high-high falsetto. The karaoke mc was not impressed, snatching the mic away from me as my last tortured and disco-ridden note hung in the smokey air. So, about an hour later, when I was unbanned, my selection was Hungry Like a Wolf, which I performed with aplomb (as well as bumps and grinds) to the delight of several. Suddenly yesterday's bride/Annie and Michele were crawling across the floor before me, on the gay bar's small dance floor/karaoke staging area.
So last night's dual re-creation apparently resulted in gasps from those who noticed it, according to another Michelle (note the 2 l's), Michelle Gigante, a famed dancer/choreographer/actor. Gasps. At a wedding. And their wedding photog, one I do not know but by name, snapped it all up into his Canon.
More to tell.
Suddenly, minding my own business and all, after a few more cocktails, the same Michele (1 l) came up to me to propose a new dance move. It somehow resulted with us rolling atop each other à la Madonna's Like a Virgin performance on the video music awards show of yore. This amid some other questionable dance moves by other guests, some vintage pogo-ing by Gary, schemes to catapult guests off the nature-induced wavy dancefloor by other mischievious guests and cross-genre mixing and matching.
We were busting loose, sending the newly-linked off on a plane of freeform expression and unbridled passionate movement. Giving their guest list, vendor and site selections, engendered and biographical leanings, their fateful happenings along life's path, their ensembles, the Swedish Fish favours (yes!), the deluxe florals, their scents and their whole day a collective, celebratory high-5 - all this under the hyper-planned and overhung and irascible spiritual presence of the whole site's daddy, Frank Lloyd Wright, creator of Graycliff Estate.
FLW's most triumphant building still standing there, according to Perfect Me, is the heat house, a small and semi-sunken structure which housed all the mechanicals of heating the main and guest houses. Now it is a bunkerous shell perfect for a studio with one window facing trees and a small and wide door painted with chalky lead paint.
Time to caffeinate.

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