Uprising

My mermaid friend in Coney Island often hosts holiday feasts. I took the hour and a half subway ride to the beach on a beautiful Easter Sunday.

I walked the length of the boardwalk to her Seagate apartment. It was a glorious sunny day. I ate a caramel apple and carried a bag containing my roasted potatoes dish for the party.

The mermaid has a wonderful collection of friends. We chatted and grazed until the needle dropped on the Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack.

The six foot plus former Golden Gloves champion couldn't resist doing a John Travolta move across the floor. This was our gateway to bliss. Every song got our bodies moving.

We formed a line and danced. We had duets and solos. Other guests arrived to find us in full swing by 6pm.

An extra long twisting session left us exhausted and sweaty. We put on our coats and walked to the beach.

It was cold but there was a beautiful sunset. The strong wind swept the sand so it looked like a low, moving fog hovering above the dunes. The cold water swimmer took a dip in the frigid ocean.

You never know where the day will take you. This was the best Easter I have ever celebrated. I felt uplifted. None of us expected a joyous dance party. We were all grateful to get one.

Dancing requires more than timed movements. It also takes a nexus of participants, a rare event in the US.

We seemed like a diverse crowd of personalities. We didn't know whether others at the party were the type to risk swaying to the Bee Gees. What an unlikely blessing that all of us shared a love for the music and movement. We created elation.