While some watch ‘Dancing with the Stars’ and some dance under the stars, Mr. Bill and I prefer dancing, by the light of the moon and when the wolf moon shines, we howl. That’s when the music of the Sierra Band beckons and before you can say, “Tiki Bar”, we are kicking up our heels at the Square Grouper, on Jupiter Inlet, where dancers, drinkers and diners mix and mingle by the water’s edge. Under the sweeping beams of the Jupiter lighthouse, patrons arrive in waves. Spring breakers, wedding parties and retirees, all come and go like the tide, to dance the night away. Some roll in on party buses and their ID’s are carefully checked by the bouncers; while Mr. Bill and I sail in, never once having our ages questioned. Every group has a distinct dance style. The college kids get down with their glasses of beer held high, heedless of the uneven pavers and they never spill a precious drop. Middle aged dancers hop and bop and the ancients can still trip the light fantastic. I’ve seen Millennials roll their eyes when the elderly couple, who always wear white from head to toe, approach the dance floor hand in hand; only to open their eyes wide in surprise, when the oldies break into the jitter bug and crush it.

Life imitates lyrics at the Square Grouper. Although Sam Cooke wrote Twistin’ the Night Away in ’62, the verse, “Here you’ll find the young and old twistin’ the night away”, aptly describes these footloose castaways. Elvis was even more spot on when he sang this line in Jailhouse Rock: “Hey buddy don’t you be no square, if you can’t find a partner use a wooden chair”. Well at the Grouper, we have noticed on more than one occasion, singles partnerning with the palm tree growing up through the dance floor-most likely as the result of “somethin’ tall an’ strong”. After all, it’s always 5pm at this funky, beach bar, where Alan Jackson filmed the video for his 2003 hit, “It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere”.

Naturally, Mr. Bill and I have our signature moves, honed over the decades. When the band plays, ZZ Top’s Sharp Dressed Man , we rush the floor. Mr. Bill moves his feet and claps his hands to the beat, while I try my best to keep the beat. Our slow dancing has evolved slightly over the years. In the early days, slow songs were an opportunity to hold each other close and we swayed together without any discernible footwork. Lately it’s more shuffling than swaying, but now we are holding on even tighter- mainly to keep one another from tripping, on the rough flagstones. Ever the romantic, Mr. Bill, who has a lovely voice, serenades me, while we slowly spin with the moonbeams. On the night of January’s wolf moon when Mr. Bill heard the band play the opening chords, of a passionate Righteous Brothers’ song, he took my hand and led me onto the dance floor. Soon I was in Mr. Bill’s arms, my head resting on his shoulder, as he sang softly in my ear, “You lost that lovin’ feelin’, now it’s gone, gone, gone whoa-oh”.

Really Mr. Bill ? REALLY!!!!

Still, we go dancing despite the mixed signals. Whenever the Sierra Band takes the stage, Mr. Bill and I are there. We’ve danced in sunshine and in rain but nighttime is the best time. And a wolf moon is meant for howling