Worm hole: A theoretical passage through space/time that
could create shortcuts for long journeys across the universe and allow time
travel.
Last weekend we went with friends to “The British are Coming…. Again” show on the Ashland University
campus. It featured local musicians and
singers recreating the music of the British invasion of the 60’s. Still performing today after their years as
The Ohio Express, Dean Kastran and Dale Powers were two of the performers that
came together for the Saturday night fund raiser.
Unless you’ve been living under a rock you know that we are
blessed with an amazing number of gifted people in our area. From the symphony, to the actors on the stage
at Renaissance Theatre and Mansfield Playhouse, participating
artists at The Art Center, and summer
performances in The Brick Yard…there’s
something for everyone and we are fortunate to have a thriving arts
community.
Usually it only happens at class reunions, but on this
particular evening I was delighted to discover myself in a room full of folks
“my age”. When the band started it
didn’t take long for the worm hole effect to kick in; without invitation people
came out into the open areas and danced to the delight of the performers. The crowd had been transported back to 1965
through the magic of the music.
Just as they had in the high school gyms and union halls of
their youth the gals formed circles; as the years fell away they danced with
abandon. Men whose time is currently divided
between recliners and riding lawn mowers were sheepishly dragged onto the floor. Suddenly they were busting moves they had
forgotten they could make. Slow songs
brought out couples who snuggled and smiled and swayed to the music. Faces
relaxed, illness and aggravation fell away just for the moment, and the smiles
came from deep in their memory banks.
The worm hole that only music can open transported everyone back to a
gentler time. The concert had become a young people’s dance
that could have been held at any high school gym, or the YMCA, or The Friendly
House.
Always a dedicated spectator, I sat watching from the
comfort of my rut. It would have been nice to be as free as the
writhing dancers, but that was never true for me even when this music was new. It was a great evening; the band’s enjoyment
was obvious and their talents as sharp as ever.
How fortunate they are to have been given this gift of music that they
have shared for so many years, and hopefully many more to come.
Unfortunately, nothing comes without a price; I’m sure there
were plenty of the Saturday night revelers with sore muscles and tired feet to
contend with on Sunday morning. But when
you get right down to it, isn’t that a small price to pay for a trip through
the worm hole?
Life is Good
