If . . .

the music is sweet and she says yes to the dance then heaven is on earth.  I thought it when I was boy growing up in Memphis and the swing big band and jitterbug.  There wasn't an East Coast nor West Coast version.  We went to the hop not to Lindy but to jump and jive. 

On Friday night, before the game, my friends and I would gather at Tommie Goins' house to listen to Earl Bostic and then go to play football the way kids play with no fear of injury just happiness at being able to spend the energy built up inside by the wail of Earl's sax and the need to do something.

And then came our reward, the after game dance.