Well the jazz bands didn't know any French tunes, so nix on that. However, there was good news on another front. I was talking to Paul, the club president, and I said, "Did you notice that Bernie and Lou aren't here today? I'm SO GLAD; I've been developing a real phobia about them out on the dance floor."
Paul said, "I ran into them at another jazz club and she was pushing him in a wheelchair."
"That's great!" I replied with a big grin.
Many of you may wonder how I could possibly take joy in a fellow human having been relegated to a wheelchair and I understand your qualms.
Consider: No one but the most deranged would expect a person in a wheelchair to get up from a wheelchair and frug the night away. He is (finally) safe from dance floor falls. Although the men at the monthly club meetings are now in double danger from being shanghaied out on the dance floor. They're not in wheelchairs; they can fend for themselves!
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