This was the moment we had waited for our entire lives. Four Bacon boys, all over fifty, were locked and loaded for the first wedding of the new generation. Our nephew was getting married, and we were primed to follow through on a threat that has been in the air for decades.
We were going to do a dance off.
We talked smack all weekend. We bragged about the old days when we used to tear up the dance floors. We reviewed videos of Uptown Funk, Saturday Night Fever, and anything with Michael Jackson in it.
We. Were. Ready.
About halfway through the reception, the DJ called out the Bacon boys and made the announcement. With our reputations on the line the four of us squared off on the dance floor. The music of choice for the contest was the theme song from Saturday Night Fever.
It was about at this moment that we all simultaneously realized that we had not danced “like that” since Jimmy Carter was President.
As for me, I felt like I was in one of those dreams where you are giving a speech in your underwear.
The youngest brother started with all the moves from the famous John Travolta dance scene, only with an extra hundred pounds or so thrown into the equation. In fact, if we were a band, we would be called “Half a Ton of Bacon.” (Bacon Boys was taken.)
After about ten seconds he pointed to the next brother, who was shaking his shoulders like he was trying to contain a dance fury within. Unfortunately, when his time came, his shoulders just continued vibrating and nothing else happened. Then he pointed to the third brother.
This one had had a minute to gather his thoughts so he launched into a disco frenzy of flapping arms and a couple of jumps. Then he pointed to me.
I wanted to explain to the crowd that I was still recovering from knee surgery and therefore would have to politely decline the invitation to show up my brothers. But this was the wedding we had talked about since, well, since the last wedding we had attended.
So I spun around, did a moon walk (fully expecting a chunk of titanium to eject out of my leg), and did some kind of jump thing that I can’t really describe.
After the first round, we had nothing left. Instead of dancing, we just began passing to the next brother until the dance off became more of a pointing contest.
The crowd began to wander away from the dance floor, avoiding eye contact with any of us. They were either disappointed, or a new round of foo foos had just been delivered to the buffet table. Maybe both.
When it was over, we saw the same looks on the faces of our relatives as are seen on the faces of Sailors the first time they see the Command Master Chief at the beach.
So if shock and awe was our goal, we succeeded. If we were looking to embarrass members of the Bacon family, we definitely did that.
Starting with me.