Gratitude Day 9 - Country, Coco, and Charlie's

I definitely had a country music phase.  I moved to Mississippi after graduation in 2003, and met Sylvie.  I timidly stuck my toe into the country scene with a free Dixie Chicks concert provided by our new landlady.  We had such a blast at the concert, I thought there might be room in my heart for this genre.

Then Sylvie slipped me the double live Garth Brooks CD and my mind was blown.  His crystal clear voice with the completely controlled and expertly employed twang propelled me up and down the highways of the delta for two years.  And then there were more and more songs and artists.  Songs about heartache and making up and drinking beer.  Good stuff.

I left the delta in 2005 and my love of country music waned - Until last November when I discovered Charlie's.

I had just met a new group of ladies at Heather's pumpkin party, and that evening they decided they would continue the party at Charlie's to celebrate Poe and Shawnalea's engagement.  I walked in and couldn't believe my eyes.  It was a gay country bar!  I got a drink, pulled up a stool on the rail along the dance floor, and just watched.

The people watching was unlike anything I've experienced before or since.  There were two men, 60-years-old, untold stories of the pain of being gay and loving country music for the last 40 years, dancing together for hours.  There were drag queens in decidedly not rugged attire sipping cocktails in the corner.  And there were so many cute girls with snazzy gay haircuts I didn't know what to do.

And then...out of nowhere...the fiery intro of Garth Brooks' Callin' Baton Rouge came on.  I hadn't heard this song in probably eight years, and I was instantly filled with joy.  Heather, who grew up near Baton Rouge, grabbed my hand and took me out for my first real two step. And I never looked back.

I have met so many friends at Charlie's, worked up so many sweats as I get spun around the dance floor, and learned what it means to be part of a different type of community.  Everyone dances differently.  Malorie gets lost in the music and transcends her tiny frame to lead you around the floor.  Danielle makes you feel like a ballroom dancer.  And no one dances like Coco.  She taught me everything I know and encouraged me to dance with other strangers.

So this morning, after a glorious night spent dancing with a pretty lady, I'm grateful for Charlie's.  And I'm grateful to Coco, the Dance Machine, for helping me find my stomp.