In my youth, I can’t even count the Friday nights I worked playing bass or a babe guitar like this one. These days I mostly play acoustic guitar, but occasionally I pull out this electric. I’d formally introduce you, but the poor thing doesn’t have a name yet...15 years later. There’s a golden oldie I associate with Friday nights. Below is the talking intro I wrote for it. Some of you might guess the song this leads into. . . “My Mama don’t cut no rug, she don’t do no jitterbug. She don’t bugaloo or pas de tout, she thinks they’re all the devil’s tools. And daddy don’t trot no fox, or do that 123 little box, or even dance an Argentine tango! Nope, you won’t see him tripping any light fandangos. . . So this is my dance floor plight. I’m from a long line of rhythmic fright. Take my hand, we’ll dance to the band, as they play their hot refrains. And then my dear friend, we can pretend, we’re James Brown, Riding the Night Train.” . . #yourmama #yourmamadontdance #logginsandmessina #getyourdanceon #fridaymood music#instagrampoetry #changeandgrow https://www.instagram.com/p/B7uNmzJplyx/?igshid=30umnj9834ta
