Tuxedo Pants

I am a little bitter.  What, you might ask, has brought about this change from my usual sunny disposition?  Homecoming.  What about homecoming, you might ask.  I don't get to go.  How is that fair?  I know that I'm thiry three, and that I have three kids, and that I graduated high school before the turn of the century, but I think it's more than just a little ageist (yes, ageist) to disinclude me from such a better -than-average party simply because I do not actually attend high school anymore.  Especially since I did attend high school - all four years.  (Disinclude is my daughter's word by the way - if Bush can make 'em up, so can Avery.)  

I am left with only one course of action.  Like great dissenters that have come before me I will form - a protest party.  (Mine will be an actual party with punch and cookies and sweet music.  Watch and learn Ralph Nader.)  Good people - we must insist on our right to ugly dresses, dyeable shoes, and huge rose corsages at all ages.  We must stand firm in our goal to achieve a fair and equitable dance community by establishing not one Homecoming Queen, but one Homecoming Queen every hour. ( We'll set a timer and pass the crown when it goes off.  A short reign, after all, prevents royal tyranny. On second thought, maybe we'll make it BYOC - bring your own crown.  Mine of course will be the shiniest - it will probably have feathers.)  Let us unite under the best homecoming themesong of them all - Forever Young by Alphaville (that was your homecoming theme song wasn't it.  If not, you didn't really have homecoming so this party will do you good.)  It will be the start of a dance, dance revolution.  Who's with me?

I know in my attempt to make a better world, I may dance alone - but at least I will be wearing a crown while I do it.