The Night Before The Election

“Under the boardwalk” we all sang in unison waving our arms in the air. “Down by the sea” we warbled as we took two steps to the left and clapped and then two steps to the right and clapped. There must have been a hundred people under the stars at the Hollywood Beach open air theatre on a Tuesday night completely impervious to the fact that the entire nation was awaiting the results of one of the most bitterly and closely fought elections in recent history. Republicans sweated and sidestepped while Democrats got in a bit of fancy footwork but on the whole, everyone was working hard to put together a fairly well orchestrated dance routine, led by the young man on the stage wielding a microphone and backed up by a huge electronic music machine. For all the mud-slinging that had gone on prior to the actual election date, it was now in the lap of the Gods, and for most of us, the evening was spent leaping about like teenagers, laughing and colliding with our neighbours, and desperately trying to copy the sharp line dance routines going on around us. I couldn’t help feeling that Hollywood is a melting pot of the Americans that we come into contact with. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, the faithful are seated early on the rows of “aloominum” benches awaiting the arrival of whichever group or solo performance is booked for the evening. There is a wide concrete dance area that separates the onlookers from the stage, and on either side of the dance floor, ropes separate the watchers from the dancers and prevent the casual bike riders from peddling through the midst of the entertainment. The stage is curved, painted with a vast seascape and stands with its back to the sea, and a small door at the back of the stage is left open in order to allow a cooling breeze from the water that keeps the musicians from dissolving into a puddle of sweat. It is easy to spot the old Hollywood residents. They stick to the same seats each night and dance in the same area of the floor. Dressed in t shirts and flip-flops or turned out in silky tops with a dab of gold jewellery they can look like any other normal couple until the gentleman turns his back to the audience to reveal a Under The Boardwalk – Kate Fagalde waist long plait. There are the elderly retired couples who sit down for all the fast numbers but who never fail to get onto the floor for the waltzes. Arms about each other with a misty look in their eyes, they move with the music as the memories flicker across their faces. In one corner there will be a Dad with a small child perched on his shoulders, or a young couple with a child between them, the little one standing on Dad’s shoes and clutching his knees as he dances with his parents. The middle aged bracket still kick their heels up to the 60’s music and a few brave ones take on a pretty nifty ragtime beat, and are at once transformed into servicemen and women from the wild days of the war years. The youngsters have given up on disco music that merely requires them to stand and wiggle various bits of their anatomies, and join in the joyous free style, dodging the line dancers and weaving in and out of the waltzers. The audience applaud the musicians and the dancers alike and woe betide the band who make lots of noise but fails to produce the rhythm that gets everybody up on their feet. I have yet to know the weather to put a damper on things and invariably the stars are shining, the moon beams down on us all, while the wind from the sea brushes the palm fronds at the edge of the beach. The music ends at the reasonable time of nine o clock and people depart, some of them still dancing, towards the car park or the ice cream shop. Small children loll sleepily on their parents shoulders, elderly couples walk arm in arm and the youngsters hold hands and drift towards the beach. I didn’t hear a single mention the election on Tuesday night at Hollywood, but I heard the sound of combined laughter, saw the delight on people’s faces as they finally caught the rhythm and watched a hundred people all in step singing “Under the Boardwalk”. I know that in some form or another, this scene is being re-enacted all over America by people who have a common cause. All they want to do is to dance in step with each other just as long as the band leader is playing the right tune.