Call it work avoidance, and this will make you laugh your ass off, but today I am grateful for Saturday Night Fever. More specifically, Tony Manero. He practically glows with testosterone, and holy god, the man can dance.
I first saw Saturday Night Fever on television when I was eight or nine, and looking at Tony Manero was the first time I felt the "wow, I need me some of that!" feeling that grown-ups call desire. Seriously--who *wouldn't* be smitten with a hot working class Italian man from Brooklyn who can dance his ass off? For this grade-school girl from Central Nowhere, he represented the complete opposite of everything I knew. And that's attractive enough. But still . . . that smile. Pretty sexy, no?
I think this is also where my secret desire to become a dancer comes from. I wanted to be Tony's dance partner, define "dance" as you will. And, a corollary gratitude: I am grateful for disco.
I know (gasp, gasp), I said disco. But it's great. And so is he.
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