Tim Belford: Short Takes On Life
Tim Belford
Tim Belford
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Tim Belford is host of Quebec A.M. -- CBC Radio's popular English- language morning show (91.7 FM, 6-9, Mon.-Fri). He also is said to know a thing or three about wine.

Posted 11.18.02
Quebec City


Lament of an ex-Boogie Man

I was once part of the dance-till-you-drop generation. We'd start at nine o'clock and boogie 'til dawn.

Credence Clearwater Revival, the Stones, The Who, it didn't matter. As long as the music lasted, so did we.

Well, I've turned in my dance card.

Oh, I'll still dance when the occasion warrants. I'll still kick up my heels and frolic with the best of them. But I'll do it with a new-found reticence.

It all started with the Lennoxville campus of Champlain College's thirtieth anniversary celebrations last weekend.

I got invited by virtue of the fact the love of my life is an integral part of the Administration.

On top of that, over the last thirty years I've managed to teach a little Russian history, American history, political science, humanities, and a course in wine appreciation at the same college.

The latter being my favorite course, by the way.

Anyway, the food was great but warning bells should have gone off with the name of the group providing the musical entertainment.

It was Mid-life Crisis.

They insisted on playing a selection of tunes that I haven't really danced to since most people actually recognized the terms Tet Offensive and Nash Rambler.

Anyway, the second warning should have been that I also actually knew all the words to the songs.

So I danced. And I danced. And I danced.

Then I went home. And that's when the trouble began.

Getting to bed was no problem and after three hours of strenuous activity -- hey, you try doing the soupy shuffle -- falling asleep was no problem.

It was waking up with the most excruciating cramp in the calf of my right leg that did me in.

Now, I've played soccer, rugby, football, lacrosse and baseball but I've never had a cramp like this.

My leg muscle had decided to do its impersonation of the Gordian knot. And for a moment I thought, like Alexander the Great, the only way to deal with it was with a blow from a sword.

I sat bolt upright desperately trying to stretch.

Not wanting to wake Herself, who was peacefully slumbering beside me, I squelched a blood curdling scream and merely bit through my bottom lip.

I grabbed the offending muscle an attempted massage.

It was sort of like trying to knead a concrete block.

Anyway, to make a long story short, I did finally manage to return my calf to a relatively pliable state.

But mark my words, the next time I'm at a dance where the band has the words "mid-life" or "crisis" in the title, I'll take a little extra care.