HalfShadows said:My father was a musician. He played and sang country swing. His band played Honky Tonk Bars in and around the Dallas-Ft. Worth area. I slept on many of booths when I was young while the band played on. Every summer my Dads Band would play at different functions in the backwoods towns of east Texas and Louisiana. I remember they mainly started playing at dusk at these events outside. People would come out of the woodwork to have an evening of dancing. What I recalled the most besides all of the delicious food was Old pickups from the forties and fifties arriving, and on several occasions One or two of the pickups would back up with someone who was physically disabled or Grandma in a rocker in the pickup bed. They would drive all the way there from their homes with a rocking passenger in the bed. The rockers would have overstuffed patchwork quilted pillows. They would rock faster and wave their arms and sing at energetic songs they liked. Once in a while a loved one would jump in the bed of the truck and statically dance with them, or simply hold their hand during a slow love song or sad song. Sometimes people affectionately unite in spaces of security and comfort whether it be a Patchwork quilted rocker or an REI Camp chair.
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