Thursday, July 21, 2011

Dancing In The Mist

Wednesday means free fusion dance at Jones Beach all summer. Fusion dance is what Jones Beach calls line dancing. We like line dancing. S and I found our first available Wednesday was filled with mist. When I pulled up in front of her house, the mist turned into a few large drops of rain. Then it stopped as she climbed into the car. I called right away. The number I'd found for the beach from their awful website last year is programmed into my cell so that I don't have to spend another two hours looking for a number to call.

I listened to the recorded message that leaves a bunch of other numbers I should hang up and call if I want to talk to someone else at other parts of the beach. I stayed on the line and it rang and rang. Finally, someone picked up. I asked if there was line dancing. The woman asked someone else in the office with her and then said, Yes there is. I said thanks. We were off!

As we turned onto the Meadowbrook, S gasped. A rainbow! she exclaimed. Across the grey-red sky was a very thick rainbow, brighter and wider than any I've seen before in real life. We wound down the parkway, the rainbow's both ends popping in and out of sight through the curves. When we pulled into the parking lot, the sun was at halflight, the rainbow was lingering.

We walked up onto the path to the beach that goes under the road in a dark tunnel that the Parks Dpt. seems to be renovating. Lots of little kids run through it and scream. It's a good time. As we were walking towards the boardwalk, S said, Uhoh. She saw some line dancers leaving. That's not a good sign.

The wind was wild and there was some mist here and there, but it wasn't weather that you couldn't dance in. Then I saw some of the "professional" line dancers leaving. I asked, Should we keep going and see for ourselves? We agreed to keep on towards the beach, knowing that it was not looking good.

As soon as we turned the corner and made it to the bandshell where the dancing takes place, two lightning bolts struck across the sky. Not five seconds later, a PA announcer was instructing all beach-goers to leave the shoreside immediately because there was lightning. I looked around. It was a good idea to leave. All the railings are metal. The picnic tables are metal, too, but they look coated in rubber. Plus, the huge mast in the middle of the boardwalk is the tallest thing around. However, if you stand on the shoreline, you're totally getting hit.

We turned around and made our way back to the car. People were milling around, not really rushing. A park ranger came out to yell at people on the sand who were totally not packing up.

I don't know why I called ahead. This isn't the first time I've called and they've given me the wrong information. Couldn't they just say, it's probably going to be canceled?

After the lightning, no rain came. None. The mist stopped. No more big drops. Nothing came down from the sky. No more lightning struck. So, exactly why was it canceled? I'm not sure. I guess they don't believe in delay. It's either on or off.

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