My ears are encased in noise cancelling ear phones and it allows me to transcend my present station. Second last row middle seat, British airways. Failure to check in early and BA's additional fee for seat selection, puts me in quite possibly the worst seat of the plane. Incidentally, it makes me the most likely to survive crash landing.
The earphones are donned for the detachment they facilitate, but I take the opportunity to fill my head with the sounds of Nigerian artist KCee singing his Limpopo. 1 of only 2 songs on my iPhone. While traveling my retired iPhone 4 has been called back into full time service, as my travel phone. It had been wiped as I prepared to sell it, and only has a couple of the songs I've discovered and been able to find on iTunes, during my month in Ghana.
The song is littered with the pop gimmicks of modern house music, whispy crescendos and auto-tuned chorus, but I love it this moment. House music's emergence into pop, makes me nostalgic, for the polka dot shirt wearing, gumby cut having days of grade nine. Hearing this Nigerian utilize house music principles to make an African sound fills me with Toronto pride. A genre my city had a hand in crafting. I remember listening to Chris Shepard and Deadly Headley late nights on weekends, before I had a driver's license. I often walk home on king street wondering if anyone else remembers the history created in those warehouses before they were gentrified, before house music went to Europe for safe keeping and technofying. Knuckles and Vega replaced by high priced steaks, and bottle service.
My God, I want to dance tonight.
The sun is setting. I must be over Mali now, a country of conflict and I pray opportunity. Incidentally the country I celebrated my thirtieth birthday in, in a club called Byblos making fast friends with would be dance partners.
The sun is setting on my 30s, and I still crave crowded dark rooms and music too loud to hold conversation. If a DJ plays this tonight I may have to find a bartop or table to properly express what is in me. I remember my father, asking incredulously what was the attraction after catching me sneaking out one night. I had taken his Van to pick up a group of friends at a local party, we were headed to Spectrum an all ages venue on the east end. I had been to hasty in my departure, my Dad heard the car start in the driveway, standard practice was to let the car roll down the drive in neutral before starting it up on the street. He got up and followed me to the local party. He parked his car and took the Van home leaving a note preparing me for the punishment that would be meted on me in the morning. I came out with my friends discovered the Van gone but recognized the car, got behind the wheel read the note and mental math told me "enjoy tonight because tomorrow you will die". If that's not already a song chorus it should be.
My wife waits for me when I land.
I made a mad dash from a meeting in the House of Parliament to Paddington station for the Heathrow express, so I'm still in a suit and tie. The black Hugo boss suit I got married in, a white shirt and black tie, looking like an extra in "reservoir dogs". Incidentally, the man in front of me is watching Tarentino's follow up to the classic, "pulp fiction".
Fittingly, despite knowing Ahmeda as my sisters friend for years our relationship took an abrupt turn towards the romantic on a dance floor. I invited her to join me to cut some rug, she obliged, nestled in booty first and asked me to show her how to dance to Soca.
"When I see you baby, I just like to happy"
My restlessness gets me out of my seat, I go to the rear galley do some exercises from high school track and field. The air hostess pretends to be impressed by my ability to raise my leg chin high. My claims of being 40, doesn't make the feat any more impressive in her eyes. Stretching it out, so I can shake it out at Twist tonight. A club owned by a cousin, not coincidentally the site of our Ghana wedding.
I love house music's ability to separate mind from body.
Soca, Hip Hop, House, but tonight we Azonto.
When i think of the attraction of dance floors its the opportunity to be reckless, blissfully unscripted. My father is probably even more mystified now by desire to be in night clubs, but i see an understanding in my mom's eyes when the topic comes up, and the discreet raising her hands when she starts to feel a tune playing. I grew up proudly emulating my Dad, in my middle age it I've realized so much of what I love about me is from my mom.
The pilot is announcing our descent, no crash landing. I mentally prepare myself for the heat that awaits me when the plane doors open, with every intention to make it hotter as the night goes on.
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