April 14 - The Sound Table

During last year's tumultuous task of wedding planning, the hubby and I made a valiant effort to put the cares of the event aside and attend a few social events here and there. One such event included clubbing at this spot on Buford Highway in the name of a friend's birthday. We hadn't been out dancing in Providence knows how long. I hadn't been going to my Latin dance classes at Dance 101, so it was an understatement to say that I needed this. The biggest issue that night was what to wear. 


When I first turned 30, I was still into stilettos and tight little dresses. And every now and then, that is still my uniform of choice. But these days I can't stand a screaming foot. I want to dance with wild abandon whenever I have the opportunity. Some hot-in-the-ass dress does not properly afford that. I wore jeans, a top and some sensible platforms. Hubby wore jeans with a shirt and breathable boots. When we showed up at the club, we were dressed for the wrong event. Rather, I was dressed for the wrong event. I saw women my age of all shapes and sizes stuffed down in dresses more appropriate for the 20 year old wanton. Initially, I felt stupid but then I realized that thinking I was stupid  was what was really stupid. I'll explain.


I am no longer 20 something and I no longer believe in sporting the glory of my uncovered ass for the hell of it. My femininity is not defined by my neckline or hemline. I don't think self-mummification via a lycra dress is necessary to accentuate my assets. Nor do I delight in planting a crop of corns on my feet for the sake of fashion. And finally, I'm not a featured product in the never-ending meat market scenario that seems to be today's nightlife. I don't mean to put down those ladies who like to do all of the aforementioned things. Hey, more power to you! You look sexy and all that. But c'mon. Most of the men were still dressed like they took a break from playing XBOX to get their rocks off. I damn well knew that they were my age and had a dress shirt somewhere in their closet. Ladies, why are we putting ourselves on display for men who think a graphic tee with a comedic message is dressing up?


Sigh. After that particular occasion, I really didn't miss clubbing all that much. I got back to  wedding planning and coveted my nights indoors away from the fray. 

But today's a new day. Dancing is still a necessity in my book. After being hipped to the scene at The Sound Table, I can breathe a mature sigh of relief. The second Saturday of each month features the wheels-of-steel stylings of DJ Kemit Kickin' Up Dust. The cover is $5. The scene is come as you are. The crowd is pleasantly 20, 30 and 40 something, wine-loving, no-nonsense and representative of the rainbow that is our American population. Instead of the focus being the potential hook-up, the star of the night is the music. What was so delightful about my experience this past Saturday was the fact that the DJ played most of every song instead of just snippets like that ass clown of a DJ at the above-referenced Club Ass Hat.  (I'm not bitter.) And when I say song, I mean good old-fashioned soul music where the lyrics are actually poetic and sublime. The melody is more than just a looped guitar riff and a contrived bass line. I'm talking actual instrumentation, People.

Some of the song highlights for me included  Love You Inside Out  by The Bee Gees, Wikka Wrap by The Evasions, The Big Payback by James Brown and Black Betty by Ram Jam. What really cracked me up was when everyone was singing the lyrics to What A Fool Believes by The Doobie Brothers.  I only know one person that actually knows the real lyrics to that song and that is Alex Raffi of Imagine Communications. Whatever Doobie brother that is singing sounds like he has a mouthful of bad tasting jello but he's still trying to sing around it. LOL Good times.


Anyway, I left The Sound Table just as hyped as all get up. I was talking a mile a minute and feeling amorous. A great time was had by me. Of course the two cocktails I had could have been a contributing factor but who's really paying attention. Kudos to you DJ Kemit!