On Sock Hops and Other Questionable Descisions

I've been invited to a real, genuine time warp, out of the fifties sock hop tonight. It promises to be complete with food, beverages, dress code and music from the era and worse than that it's pot luck. I've got to take food! Authentic fifties, freakin' food. Don't get me wrong, but what do I know about fifties food? Of course I was around in the 50s (whoops did I just say that out loud) but I'm pretty sure I was drinking formula made with 'Carnation' and eating fork-mushed puree of something or other, though I do clearly remember humongous bags of puffed rice cereal and my mother's famous creamed ham and peas on toast. Ah, the things that stick with us. Wonder if my foodie friends will go for the puffed rice thing? Now ask me about the late sixties and seventies - I clearly remember go-go boots and disco balls.

The idea for this party is not a surprise to me. I was there when the scheme was hatched. We happened to be admiring the recently purchased, authentic, put your quarter in, watch the vinyl turning, lights flashing juke box. Inspired by several glasses of good wine, twinkling lights and The Everly Brothers somebody shouted (it may have even been me,)"You should have a sock hop party!" Now looking back on that decision, though it will probably not affect my longevity unless of course I happen to get a toe caught in one of my bobby socks, trip and crack my pony-tailed head on the antique music machine I think it may cause me some embarrassment. A sock hop is for dancing. Somewhere back in the 70s I was convinced I could learn to gyrate on the dance floor without humiliating myself so I took Disco Dancing lessons. Well folks, it couldn't be done, I just can't dance. John Travolta is still my dancing hero and I was and still am uncoordinated and will have to live with the humiliation ... sigh - I can only hope for darkness.
The point is some decisions sound fun while under the influence. A sock hop isn't going to kill me (I may actually have fun) but if I happened to be under the influence while riding a motorcycle and make a poor decision it most likely can and will mean my death. If you are driving your vehicle under the influence and make a poor decision while I'm riding beside you - your decision can kill me. Making the decision to drink and drive is not an option in any season! As the holiday season approaches, go ahead embarrass yourself at the sock hop but get a designated driver for the ride home ... and let's choose to make the norm "0%" blood alcohol level for riding. Ride Smart!