I’m pretty sure that last night at buffalo wild wings we, (kind of reunion gathering) in fact experienced a little taste of what heaven will be like. There were two who gathered with us from out of town. When we saw them, even before we began to converse, I had a sense of home. At home you feel it is ok, to sit in the big comfy chair that sinks perfectly to the right aaahhhh!!! factor. At home it’s warm, and you can take your shoes off and feel the stress from the day melt off your heart, body and mind. At home, you are known. (No worries we weren't kicking off our shoes in the restaurant.)I think this is just a little taste of heaven, of our true home. There’s more too it even then that, but I feel sure that there, in that gathering of friends, I tasted a bit of what being home. . . of what truly being home will be like.
I said yes, when my friend asked me if I wanted to go dancing at a downtown café in Denver. My friend assured me that there were lessons before hand, and you didn’t need a partner. I grew up listening to the greats, Count Basie, Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, Duke Ellington, Frank Sinatra, Glenn Miller, and Benny Goodman. But, until the night that I went dancing with my friend, I hadn’t fully appreciated what I loved listening too so much. The cover charge was seven dollars, and that included an hour of east cost swing lessons, and a live big band performance following, where I practiced what I had just learned in the lesson. It was a welcoming community of people those dancers. I met a few men that had been dancing for years, and said how exited they were that the young people were starting to really dance again. One gentleman in particular named Max, who, I noted, could kick his legs up higher than I could, and never seemed to tire. He danced every dance, and on that first n...
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