Feeling old and unaccomplished

Now don’t call the psychiatrist just yet – hear me out…

Anyone else catch Dancing with the Stars last night?  Because, to be honest, it’s been a bore for me this year.  I love Chelsie Hightower – have ever since So You Think You Can Dance. 

But this year Chelsie had a yawner partner and was off in a hurry.  And the rest of the dancers?  Eh.

But I love Chelsie.  Local girl makes good and all that rot.  And you know what?  She’s still a nice, church-going girl.  Good for you, sweetie.  Marry one of my sons, aight?

Speaking of – LOTS of local talent has made it big in the dancing world lately.  We are a big dancing state I guess (Utah for those who don’t know).  And a dancing religion, even though “Footloose” might suggest otherwise.

And here’s a little claim to fame y’all…Julianne Hough asked Number Three to Sweethearts Dance when they were seniors.  She’s been to my house.

Yes she has.

And look at her now – is she still with Ryan Seacrest??  Who knows.

Who cares.   She wouldn’t be at all impressed that I remember she was here.  I am officially “little people.”

ANYWAY, I like to watch the elimination nights of DWTS because they have the professionals dance.  And friends, let me tell you, I have trouble walking without falling down much less dancing.  I make Elaine Benis from Seinfeld look good.

So, well, I appreciate good dancing.  Doesn’t mean I know jack about it, but I think I know what I like.  I think.

Back to last night (have you ever noticed how difficult it is for me to get to a point??) … DWTS had a FABULOUS blast from my past for sure with the performance of “Barracuda” by Heart.  Has always been one of the best chick rock songs of all time.

Ann and Nancy Wilson. Rockin’ it. Like it’s 2010 y’all.

Love the 70s hair.  Don’t lie – you know you did it, too:

I actually was kind of known for my hair in high school, in case you want to know.  I had a perm, and I would blowdry the crap out of that massive mane…upside down.  Then…FLIP back upright and hot roller that mess into submission.  Wait until cool, then out the rollers come.  Then FLIP back upside down and BRUSH BRUSH BRUSH.  FLIP – up again, and gently pick the hair into Farrah Fawcett perfection so as not to lose the impressive volume I’d just created.  Aerosol spray shellack until gagging.  Out the door, ready for my close up.

Ah.  Good times.

FOCUS…FOCUS…

The dancing to “Barracuda” was off the hook, too.  And my cute Chelsie was one of the dancers.  She’s the one with the straight blond hair, in case you didn’t know.

ANYWAY…Heart was around when I was in high school – ancient days of yore – and there was Ann belting the crap out of that song, and I thought, “Holy cow – she’s got to be my age!  Look at her go!”

Seriously, no one can belt like Ann.  That I can think of.

And Nancy was right beside her looking trim in top hat and tails, working that guitar and jumping her brains out.

Now look, the years haven’t been as good to Ann as they have been to Nancy apparently.  But these days it’s a plus when rockers start to die of old age, ya know?  So I don’t care, Ann.  I think you freakin’ ROCK.

I had to know…Google me shocked:  Ladies and gentlemans, Nancy…is FIFTY-SIX years old.  And jumping around like she’s 15.

And the belter Ann?  SIXTY.  6-0.

And that is why I feel old.  And unaccomplished.

Rock on ladies.  Rock the freak on.

EDIT: OH MY GOSH!!  I just realized I got their names mixed up.  I fixed it now.  If you noticed, you’ll now notice I did it right.  If you didn’t, nevermind.  And if you did notice but chose to let it pass – thank you.