Let's Dance...Again!

Okay, so I made that piece on Friday night about Let's Go To a Hoedown. As I was working on that piece, I was glancing back and forth between my piece and the televised 'Hope for Haiti' broadcast. Somehow my thoughts were mingling yet I was unaware of the unholy marriage taking place between my art piece and the television. I remember glancing up at the Hollywood types taking phone calls thinking "There is Mel Gibson...haven't seen him in awhile...he must be trying to come back out after his latest mess ups." Seemingly, that was about all I thought about Mel. I did have thoughts similar to those about some of the other call takers. I remember thinking about Ringo Starr making note that I think Ringo is a tremendously nice guy. I thought Julia Roberts seemed to be uneasy making small talk. Now, all of this thinking was going on while I made my art piece depicting a hoedown. Okay, fast forward to Saturday night. Saturday night, I had a dream and it was a doozey. I hope the dream state is artfully depicted in my above creation. In the dream, I was in one of those colorful pink and purple getups shown on the girls in the hoedown picture below. I was dancing around a dance floor doing the Virginia Reel throwing caution to the wind. Just when I was do-si-doing up a storm, my dance partner changes. Holy cow, I am dancing with  Mel Gibson! I am having the same thoughts about him that I was having Friday night like "Mel is showing his age", etc. Then, lo and behold, I look down at my legs and notice that I have not shaved my legs in what must be years! My legs are covered in hair three inches long. I think "Gee, I hope Mel does not notice my deplorable hygiene." I mean who wants even Mel with his sullied reputation going back to Hollywood telling everyone he danced with a woman with the legs of a gorilla? Therefore, I immediately threw some restraint on my style like a bucket of ice cold water. I tried to "swing my parter" in a much less flamboyant fashion so as not to attract extra attention to my hairy gams.  But alas, Mel noticed. As I reeled away, the last glimpse I had of Mel was of his wide eyed shock and disbelief at having danced with Bigfoot. Moral to the story: I dance with Mel Gibson yet he ends up being the one shocked. And that is my story folks. I hope you enjoyed it.