We drove to Lincolnton, NC yesterday morning to pick up a chaise/ottoman from Ledford’s Fabrics. I have a description of it on the photo post.
Lincoln ton is a fine town. I really enjoy going there.
Nick and I stopped at a restaurant on the square. I have eaten there about three times and I wanted him to enjoy it. The restaurant sits across form the Court House. There are lots of plants on the sidewalk outside. They are living , thriving plants, not the dying kind that I raise.
We were the first ones there and it is nice because you can sit where you choose, not where they “put” you.
That doesn’t sound big, but you know, I read an article in the NY Times, I think it was, that said restaurants don’t like seniors. Not that I am a “senior” because I only use that word if it gets me a discount. I simply am 64. No labels, please.
I simply don’t care to be where I am not wanted or made to feel less than. And restaurants in New York or anywhere, who treat people differently because of age or looks? Pff. Go sniff dirty socks and I will open my money at a place where I can sit front and center I I choose.
Lunch was delightful and the hostess, came towards the end of the meal and put her arm around me and we laughed about something. I just love the South!!
Oh, while we were eating, I said to Nick, “Are we in ‘Happy Days'”?
Cars and trucks circled the square outside and two super fun, stinky old cars, came by. I thought for sure I had seen “The Fonz”.
We got in our car to take a drive down the backroads. We were going around when I saw a lot f people outside a big building. The had fancy dress. A wedding?
Nick circled the square, again so that I could get a better look-see.
It wasn’t a wedding. It was a clogging competition. So I said, hey, we have to go.
We circled the parking lot and there were no spaces on the first try, but we soon found a spot.
Kids were practicing their clogging outside. Little girls with big ponytail, a bit older girls with synchronized swimming style makeup and flouncy skirts … and a few boys thrown in.
Admission to the Southern Appalachian Grand Champion Clogging Competition was $3.00.
We walked in and didn’t see anyone selling tickets. There was a long line at the concession stand and at the exhibits where they sold clogging paraphernalia.
The event took place in the civic auditorium. We walked through little cloggers who clip-clopped everywhere.
The auditorium was quite full, so we took seats we could find and proceeded to watch, what turned out to be, the end of the competition.
We saw about ten groups … the end of the junior division and the senior division. There had been about 158 groups that had clogged all morning.
The stage was lined with trophies, probably even one for best ponytail.
We could tell we were near the end of the competition because there wasn’t much applause after performances, except for the performer’s families.
I watched ponytails being slicked back, girls applying makeup, parents with cell phones out, taking pictures. The real lives of real people who clog their way through life.
There was one man who came out in the senior division. He was in a group of about six or seven women. I heard several people yell, “Go Bill!”
It cracked me up. Bill smiled. The music started and Bill went to town. He clogged with purpose and dexterity, smiling.
We left before they awarded the trophies. We had places to go and things to see. We needed to get misplaced on a few roads to make the adventure complete.
This was a day I needed after being horn-dogged by the cold. Sometimes you can dance inside your own head to much … even after the music has stopped.
It was time to get off of the Mucinex train and get back on the horse … talking to people I don’t know, seeing things we haven’t seen and thinking thoughts I dared to think.
And when we walked in the house, it felt so good to be home.
Home. There is no other world like it.