Worm-hole

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