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ODE TO SALLY LIPPMAN, DISCO SALLY (1900-1982)

"I’m goin to boggie oggie oggie till I just can’t boogie no more"- A Taste of Honey

I
I dreamt of you Sally, I dreamt we were doing that crazy dance
At Studio, Les Mouches, Xenon, 12 West, Infinity, in a trance
From poppers, you, an 80 year old bubby dressed for a killing
Arriving at 3 AM when the energy was infectious and spinning.

How you swayed and grinded; I held your hand and its soft bones
Beneath your lambskin arms, O how your fragile body was in a zone
Of motion, the mirrored ball, your sunglasses and perfect teeth;
Then they pulled you onto the DJ stage and hung a flowered wreath

Shaped like a phallus on your head, and you were queen of the night!
All around you a mass of wet and shirtless skin shining in strobe lights,
You were the angel of jubilation to our faces so perfectly done;
Eyes vacant but for lust from the dark of night to the rise of the sun.

The bass amp penetrated our bodies with deafening pulses
As we gyrated and jumped to its whims and convolutions.
We held you gently in our arms to receive your blessings,
For our generation was lost to Gamorrahs and glittery things.

II

You were born just the right time for the flapper age
With the same jazzy mixture of champagne and cocaine-
What a bacchanal for you then, a Jewish beauty!
What a time of saxophone bands and Gatsby parties!

In time you settled down, a hotshot lawyer, mother, wife
A not too colorful cozy uptown life;
Hair went brown to white, your husband died,
The days became years of a desolate crying.

Sleepless, you wandered streets of midnight dives-
And memories returned to you from that tribal
Beat now blasting in clubs and dance-halls;
In you waltzed with curly hair to the ball

Where you became a delirious disco ballerina,
Waving your arms in the celebration of hysteria,
Letting your body loose with the screaming savages
Of youth, madness and whirling dervishes of ecstasy.

O the Paradise Garage, the after-hour salons,
Sally, we danced so many lifetimes ago, now and ever gone.
But I now have these recurring dreams of you and me
Joyous and oblivious to the erotic steam.

III

When you died, just at the end of the boogie rage,
Hundreds of us showed up, with your family amazed.
They would not play your favorite songs as we all asked,
But we knew your little frame held the music fast.

When you were buried in the ground, and the rabbi
Tossed the first dirt over your coffin...I knew then, I
Know now, you had given the redemption of a sage,
And I would dream of you in the dawn of my old age.

Last few words: 
The names are of the famous NY Disco clubs, (Studio is Studio 54.) Bubby is a Jewish grandmother. Poppers are a drug popular at the time, Amil Nitrite. Read about Sally http://guestofaguest.com/new-york/daily-style-phile/daily-style-phile-disco-sally-the-grandmama-of-nightlife .
Editing stage: 

Comments

Yes, I remember these times but also with a little bitterness.
As a working musician(?) in pop bands, it became very difficult finding gigs, due to DJ's taking our place...I ended up bartending in a disco, but have to admit it was wild and fun.

Don't want to say much about this piece. It is obviously very personal to you.
I did, however, find it very interesting, as well as the ancillary articles.
Your writing chops kept it hot.

p.s.
How did we survive our hedonistic over-indulgence?

boogie oogie oogie,

Al

after a few years of disco we were starting to get burnt out, one night we saw an exhibition of disco roller skating by Bill Butler of Empire in Brooklyn, next day bought skates and we were hooked. 2 years later it was everywhere, and by then i could skate- even did Carnival in Rio on skates.

Skating was clean fun. far less drugs, easier hours. Saved me. I skated for years. Then I got into opera....

Others were not so lucky. Lost a few friends. But they were not 80 years. I did know Sally.
Party animal to the last. The roaring 20's and the roaring 70's. RIP Sally!

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

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