Included --Current photo of this ol’geezer and Boss Lady Fran

Dancing at the Black Board Part 3 finis

Frequently at the Black Board,things could get outta hand,
Sometimes it was a stretch to call the playing group a band,

One night ol’ Nick ran out the door, fleeing for his life,
He’d made a pass at this big and mean, guitar player’s wife,


Well it was Friday, and the music never was the greatest,
But I don’t criticize. Country Western was the latest,

That guitar picker was yellin loud and cussin Nick as he departed,
Maybe this is where that new country sound got started ,

Well Nick still sings baritone, that guy, never caught him,
But he was gone that evening and things were lookin dim,

At twenty seven, an ex marine , I was a pleasure seeker,
But with that dancing flapper queen , I wasn’t gittin any deeper,

I walked about and found four girls seated near the exit,
They could easily book the joint, if things got too hectic,

Naturally I had to drift over and part the curtain so to speak,
Just asked a pretty girl to dance . Had no polished up technique,

She refused, couldn’t dance , just came , the sights to see,
Said ,No, my girlfriend's coming back and she would dance with me,

Well now that just won’t do, dressed like a First Grade teacher,
Or maybe she’s the wayward daughter of a local preacher,

At a dive like the Black Board? In my mind she made a dent,
Guess what? A lady bowler, in town for a tournament,

She didn’t run me off, so I ordered her up a beer,
That’s the Creme de la crème in a Dive like this here,

Getting to the dance floor was really quite a trick,
She mighta been a bowler, but she couldn’t dance a lick,

A little push and shoving two step, we managed to complete,
Without too much damage to either of our feet,

They all cut out early and I reckon I did the same
Next day, here I am, I went to watch her game,

I early on decided, I’d better watch my P’s and Q’s
The way she threw that bowling ball would make a Christian out of you,

A coke a cola sant’e, and we went our separate way,
She must have made a dent in me, just what I couldn’t say,

I couldn’t get that rocket bowling ball, off my feeble mind,
And the pretty gal that threw it, was really just my kind,

Turns out, my Black Board days were over, that was my final night,
A little sleuthing got her number, and boom! we hit just right,

I think she taught me bowling, I never got a turn at bat,
Two weeks later I proposed, Now whatta you think of that?

Five quick weeks exactly at the preacher man, we stood,
Never knew that being married could ever be so good,

So goodbye to good ol’Nick, the Black Board, and what ever,
Sixty one years later and here we are, still hamming it together!