I love the way summer heat and handheld explosives eke out the wild side of most Amuricans in the beginning of July.  I think it’s an innate response to all the social repression and politeness that has engulfed civilization.  Granted, the thrill of fireworks has been watered down a bit since I was a kid but there’s still something to be said for simply enjoying explosions.  I think most people my age can fondly recall the year someone’s dad set fire to the yard while under the influence of child-like enthusiasm and beer.

This year, I spent most of the Fourth hanging out at home.  My events calendar convinced me that the real action was on Saturday this year.  I was invited to see a large group of upstanding citizens shake their groove thangs during the Big Bad Mamajamma No Excuses Dance Party over in Crosstown.  I’m not much of a dancer but there is one specific genre of music I find irresistible – 90s disco.  So pretty much from the moment I walked in, I was infected with the beats. 

As I’ve pointed out before, the Amurica studio is one of the most interesting venues in Memphis.  The kooky decor is conducive to letting loose and the lighting motif makes everyone look good while partying.  After last night’s party, I’m convinced this is where I’m going to have my next big celebration.  (Hrm? My birthday is on a Saturday this year….)

I got to the party around 21:30 I think.  Entering at the crescendo, I could barely see the red, sparkly concrete floor.  Dancing my way across the room, it did not take long to find the fridge.  With one securely strapped on, I couldn’t help but start with the picture taking.  I am not very skilled with a camera, so this was a great chance to see what I can do in an entertaining, high-contrast environment.  When the host uses his camera flash like a strobe light, my flash inoffensively adds to the interesting.

It was great to be surrounded by people having a good time.  Still reeling from the World Cup frenzy, dancing is exactly what I needed.

I couldn’t stand still long enough to do any proper video, but there are a couple nuggets that were unearthed from the mudslide of memories.  Every time I tried to put the camera away, something astounding happened.  In hindsight, it might have come down to a quantity, not quality principle.  Most of the pictures I have are completely useless; the usable ones are pretty slick though.  At least, for my asthetic.

(Oh, on a completely unrelated note, I want to thank Marcella for this wonderful piece of art.  It’s the best deal I’ve ever gotten, so I wanted to commemorate the moment.)

I am starting to understand the concept of art in relation to economics better than ever.  Step one: hang out with artists.  I had all intention of going to DKDC after Amurica to see Marcella and Her Lovers.  After the dancing died down, there was a comfortable lull where the Hi Tone and Amurica blurred edges and young and old could be seen socializing in the most innocent of ways.

I was captivated by a woman who recently completed her yoga training.  It was also her birthday. She was a shining star among the ambivalent Memphis scene.  One of the things I love about yoga is that it can connect people from entirely different backgrounds.  I left the scene feeling like a teenager on the Highland Strip.

However, my spinning head shot-putted me further downtown instead.  I gave someone a ride to Ernestine & Hazel’s where I was introduced to a whole new flavor of dive bar.  I also met the owners of Blind Bear, which is on the list for future story.  Saturday night isn’t when I’ll be there, but they will be visited.

This was a night to remember.  Seriously, who wants to get me a venue for my birthday this year?