It's great that now a dance club fills the old men's clothing store, and there are lots of women as well as men who patronize the place and, I should think, exorcise the ghost of Mr. Camp and his suicidal demons.
Okay, here are the three photos.
First is yours truly doin' some dance moves with a guy named Brian Simmons. Notice I'm holding a cup of plain water with ice, which is my drink of choice when I dance, to avoid excessive dehydration.
Next is a shot taken from the balcony of the downstairs dance floor. Over on the right side can be seen a young guy named Jesse, in a green sweater talkin' to the Crazy Dancin' Dude, yours truly, again in my red flannel shirt. Jesse always gets a kick out of the very fact I'm in the dance clubs at all as well as how much fun I obviously have, being there and all.
Finally, I've included a picture of four Wesleyan students who were there that night. One of them, the third woman from the left, is Erika Hubbard. I met her at the Students of Color dinner last Saturday night during Wesleyan's Homecoming Weekend. She came over to me to tell me she recognized me from last Thursday night at the Titanium Club.
Okay, so that's a mercifully short "Bobs blog," written specifically for those who prefer shorter stories. Next blob post I'll probably return to my more prolix format. Who knows? Only time will tell.
If these photos stir up anything in you, anything at all, I invite you to add a Comment at the end of this blog post. Don't hold back, even if what you feel is critical of my lifestyle or otherwise judgmental. It's all good and I'm interested in all of it.