More Notes From Las Vegas
The Cher show? Was great. In addition to the (more or less) live songs, she included a lot of video clips from the old Sonny & Cher variety show, and it was a delightful reminder of the fact that Cher's been doing this gig since I was just a tot. Which I still am, compared to Cher. And damn, I hope I look as good as she does when I'm in my sixties. (I don't care that she's had surgery. If you look good, it doesn't matter to me how you brought that about, I'm on board with it.)
Afterward Elvis and I went dancing at this club in Caesar's, called Cleopatra's Barge, and one of the songs they played was - oh my god - Abba. Seriously. Dancing Queen, to be specific. The DJ had this seventies-riffic theme he was on, and he was into it.
So we were laughing and dancing to Abba, and suddenly I had a almost painfully vivid memory of my sophomore year of high school. You see, I was in the jazz chorus, and we sang Dancing Queen. Really. I'm not kidding. Six little Catholic high school girls, warbling "You're a tease and you turn him on - leave him burning, and then you're goooooooooone". Sounds more like someone being given a case of the clap than a romance, but hey, maybe it's a Swedish thing.
As I danced, I remembered - with a slight inward wince - performing that song. Badly, I'm sure. In those tacky little outfits that we wore. That our mothers had to make for us. Lordy.
Then the visceral intensity of the memory passed, and I was back in Vegas, in the now. Wearing my favorite white Herve Leger dress, stiletto heels, and all my bling, drinking champagne, and getting into mischief. Quite a difference, to put it mildly. If you had said to that fifteen-year-old girl, "Hey, when you're a grown-up, here's what your life will look like..." Well, I have no idea how that girl would have reacted. With disbelief, probably.
It's so strange how we get from one place to another in our lives. But I love my life. Yeah, I really do.