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舞动的心

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小编摘要:鲍勃,这个刚才还粗声粗气的76岁“小伙”,此刻两手抓着牛仔帽,低着头温顺地站在琼面前。他们站在那儿说话,然后琼指了指舞池。鲍勃的脸上笑意盎然,他陪着琼走进舞池,伸出手臂搂着她,缓慢而优美地领着她,在响起

“Bob! Bob!” the woman next to me instructed loudly, “Tell her why you wouldn’t marry that one lady last year!”

Obediently, the man across the table, Bob, gruffed, “Oh her! That was the damnedest thing! She told me if I wanted to marry her, I couldn’t go to dances anymore! ‘Well,’ I said, I don’t reckon I can do that.’”

Looking at the woman who commanded that he tell the story, Bob reminded her, “June Stewart was her name. You remember June, don’t you, Helen?”

“Course I do,” Helen replied.

With pearl-gray hairs carefully slicked back for his night out, Bob earnestly admitted, “See, I’m looking to find me a woman to marry. But she’s gotta like to dance.”

Then, as if revisiting a special memory, a long pause followed before he said softly, “My wife, Louise, died 12 years ago. I’ve been single ever since.” He sighed deeply, and then stated, “I thought I’d finally found someone, you know.” Glancing in the direction of the floor, Bob shook his head and then completed his thought with, “But June there, she didn’t dance and had no intentions of learning. Can you imagine that?”

Helen nodded in amused yet complete understanding.

In Dallas on business, I’d wandered into the dinner club nearest my hotel with hardly a glance at the sign announcing it was “Country Seniors Night.” I looked around. Crimson Crooners, a country band, was setting up. Nearly all the tables were full of seniors, obviously here for the dance.

As the band struck up a lively two-stepper, the couples, holding hands, made their way to the dance floor, snapping their fingers, swaying, swooning and bobbing all the way to their spots.

Not at all inhibited—neither by personality nor by their arthritis, silver hair or deepening laugh lines—the seniors danced. Oh, how they danced!

And were transformed by it. There was something indescribably alive in their dancing, a radiance of sorts. I watched, mesmerized and enchanted by the animation: faces glowed, eyes sparkled, lips eagerly mouthed the words, limber shoulders swayed to the rhythm, quick feet moved to the beat of the music. All movements defied the dancers’ ages. My eyes drifted to Bob, who moments ago I had seen, now dancing with his partner.

The table next to mine grew so crowded that it overflowed, and I was soon included in the throng. Now returning from the dance floor, Helen looked at me and said breathlessly with a grin, “That’s a great tune, isn’t it?”

“Sure is,” I replied and then complimented, “You’re really good out there. How long have you and your husband been dancing together?”

Pleased at the praise, she confided, “With this husband, just17 years. My first husband passed away. He and I had well over 30 years of dancing together!”

With a look of satisfaction, she added, “When Clem asked me to marry him, I told him he had to promise me that we would go dancing once a week—no excuses!” From his seat beside her, Clem chuckled and chimed in, “She sure did! But that was easy to promise. I mean, I get to hold my gal in my arms and dance, too. What could be better?”

Looking around the room at these happy and exuberant seniors, I wondered if it was dancing that caused them to “gussy up” and brought them out in such great numbers. Or was it the socialization, the fun and connection of being in each other’s company? I decided to ask.

“What’s so special about dancing, Bob?” I asked.

“Great exercise. Great fun,” came his reply, as though it needed no explaining.

“So is swimming, even walking,” I responded.

“No, no!” Bob said defiantly. “Nothing compares to dancing! If it weren’t for dancing, we’d all be sitting home on the couch watching TV. That’s no way to live!”

He pondered for a moment and then added what I think was perhaps one of the most important reasons so many came that night: “Dancing keeps me young. Don’t feel any of my aches and pains when I’m dancing!” With a whimsical expression, Bob professed, “Out there, I’m young again. Just feel more alive. I’m ageless when I’m dancing!” Sounds of agreement circled the table.

The band started to play a twangy tune. Immediately Bob stood up and announced, “Let’s dance, boys!” His eyes scanned the crowd for a partner, but stopped when he noticed a petite woman smartly dressed in black slacks and a white blouse heavily studded with multico-lored rhinestones. She stood near the entrance of the room. At first he looked startled, but that look was quickly replaced by a coy smile. In a hushed tone that held both surprise and delight, he declared, “Well, I’ll be!”

“Look at June!” Helen exclaimed, “She finally came in.”

Bob, the once-gruff 76-year-old “boy”, now stood meekly in front of June, his head lowered, his cowboy hat off, held with both hands. They stood together talking, until June gestured toward the dance floor. With a big grin on his face, Bob escorted his June to the dance floor, draped an arm around her, and slowly and delicately directed her moves to the romantic ballad now being played...


鲍勃!鲍勃!”我身旁的女人大声命令着,“告诉她你去年为什么不愿跟那个女人结婚!”

桌子对面的鲍勃顺从地粗着嗓子回答:“哦,她呀!那真是糟透了!她对我说,要是想跟她结婚的话,我就再也不能去跳舞了!我就告诉她,‘噢,我想我做不到。’”

鲍勃看着这个叫他把事情说出来的女人,提醒道:“她叫琼·斯图尔特。你还记得琼吧?海伦。”

“当然记得。”海伦回答。

那天晚上,鲍勃精心地把他那银灰色的头发往后梳着。他动情地坦言:“你看,我是想给自己找个女人结婚,但她必须喜欢跳舞才行。”

接下来,他好像重温一段特别的回忆一般,静默了好一阵子,才轻声说道:“我的妻子路易丝12年前去世了,从那以后我就一直单身。”他深深叹了一口气,接着说:“我以为自己总会找到另一半的。” 鲍勃的目光投向舞池,摇了摇头,继续吐露心声:“可是那个琼,她不会跳舞,也没打算学。你能想象吗?”

海伦觉得好笑,却也点头表示完全理解。

我出差到达拉斯,信步走进了离我的旅馆最近的一家晚餐俱乐部,没注意到那里有块招牌,上面写着那天是“乡村老人之夜”。我四处张望,看到一支叫“深红吟唱者”的乡村乐队正在做准备。几乎所有的桌子都围着坐满了老年人,他们显然是来这儿跳舞的。

乐队以一支活泼的两步舞曲开场,舞伴们手拉着手步入舞池,不无陶醉地一边打着响指,一边左右摇摆着各就各位。

老人们舞动着,没有一丝羞怯拘谨,丝毫不受性格和关节炎的影响,满头银发和深深的笑纹也没有关系。啊,他们跳得多好!

跳舞让他们脱胎换骨!可以感受得到,他们的舞步中有一种不可名状的活力,洋溢着喜悦。他们脸上泛红、目光闪烁、双唇热情地吟唱着歌词、灵活的肩膀随着节奏摆动,脚步快速地踏着音乐的节拍。我看着他们,被他们那生气勃勃的样子所吸引并沉醉。所有的动作都不受他们年龄的影响。我的目光移到不久前见到的鲍勃身上,他正在跟舞伴跳舞。

我桌子旁边的那张桌子变得越来越拥挤,已经坐不下了,我很快便成为这一大群人中的一分子。海伦从舞池回来,笑嘻嘻地看着我,气喘吁吁地说:“那支曲子很棒,对吧?”

“可不是嘛,”我回答,并赞道,“你刚才在那边跳得真好。你和你丈夫一起跳了多少年了?”

这话挺受用,她吐露道:“和这个丈夫只跳了17年。我的第一任丈夫去世了。我和他一起跳了30多年!”

海伦一副知足的样子,继续说道:“克莱姆要我嫁给他的时候,我要他答应我每个礼拜都要一起去跳一次舞,不许找借口!” 坐在她旁边的克莱姆呵呵笑着,插话道:“她是这么说的!不过,要答应这个很简单。我是说,我也能把我的女人揽在怀里跳舞啊,还有什么比这更好的呢?”

我环顾四周,看着这些快乐而兴奋的老人们。不知道是跳舞让这么多人精心打扮,走到了一起;还是因为大家聚在一起,彼此有伴而感到开心呢?我决定问问看。

“鲍勃,跳舞有什么特别之处呢?”我问。

“可以很好地锻炼身体,很有趣。”鲍勃回答道,好像没必要解释一样。

“那游泳也可以啊,甚至散步也可以。”我回应道。

“不,不!”鲍勃反驳说,“没有什么可以跟跳舞相比!如果不是跳舞的话,我们都只会待在家里,坐在沙发上看电视。那根本不是生活!”

他想了一会儿,然后又说了两句话。我觉得也许这就是那天晚上有那么多人来跳舞的最重要的原因之一:“跳舞让我年轻。跳舞的时候我感觉不到任何病痛!”鲍勃做了一个趣怪的表情,继续说道:“在舞池里,我又年轻了,更加生龙活虎,跳舞的时候我感到年轻!”桌子周围的人纷纷发出赞同的声音。

乐队开始弹奏一首拨弦乐。鲍勃飞快地站了起来,大声说道:“伙计们,到表现的时候了!”他的目光扫视人群寻找舞伴,看到一个打扮得体的娇小女人。她穿着一条黑色的休闲裤,白色的短上衣上面缀满了五颜六色的人造钻石,站在舞场入口附近。起初,鲍勃看上去很震惊,但很快那震惊的表情就转变为腼腆的微笑。他用不事声张但却充满惊喜的语调说道:“我来了!”

“看啊,是琼!”海伦喊起来,“她终于还是来了。”

鲍勃,这个刚才还粗声粗气的76岁“小伙”,此刻两手抓着牛仔帽,低着头温顺地站在琼面前。他们站在那儿说话,然后琼指了指舞池。鲍勃的脸上笑意盎然,他陪着琼走进舞池,伸出手臂搂着她,缓慢而优美地领着她,在响起的浪漫情歌之中翩翩起舞……

标签:舞动
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2011-02-15 11:20 编辑:kuaileyingyu
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