Grade Eight. Summer of 1974. This song hit the airwaves.
My friend Kelly and I were doing the “Bump” in her swanky family room with the huge stone fireplace and the walkout to a luxurious kidney-shaped pool a la a Columbo set. This, along with a whole host of great disco, was the music of choice. Whether it was a K-tel collection or the singles we carted back and forth to each other’s homes, this was our favourite pastime and the urge to dance has never left me (only these days I’m usually in my kitchen).
We knew nothing of Studio 54 in New York or what was going on in clubs in our big city of Toronto. We were 13 year-olds in suburbia listening to CHUM radio on our mini transistors with the one earphone and we were shakin’ our booties in Earth shoes, toe-socks, short-shorts and tight tees (although neither of us were well-endowed and I was even nicknamed “Flatsy” after a plastic doll of the same name).
We were reading “Tiger Beat” and “Seventeen” and “Mad” magazines and eating candy necklaces and chasing down the Dickie Dee guy on his bike, for some strawberry- shortcake bars.
The words of this song went right over our heads, as did the fact that the group was breaking down racial barriers by having a white American as front-man to a predominantly African American band. We just knew it was a great song and it was a blast to dance to it.
How cool is it that K.C. is giving out flowers in this video?