I judged a senior citizen talent show today.
There was a woman in her late 60s who belly-danced. (I'm sorry I don't have a picture. The organizers felt judges should more dignified than to be snapping photos of the acts. Poo.) She wore a turquoise skirt and bolero, spangled with giant gold sequins, over a red bodysuit. She had amazing cleavage and beautiful skin. She was in my top three.
A retired police officer who only started singing three years ago and who performs with a barbershop quartet sang "Ave Maria" in a voice that filled the entire auditorium. Think Bugs Bunny doing opera, only, you know, good. He didn't place and after the results were announced an admirer of his leaned over my shoulder and demanded to know WHY he hadn't placed with a voice like that. He had a groupie.
A raspy-voiced, black-dyed-haired New Yorker performed an original stand-up comedy act. Most of it was about sex. She said after two knee replacements and two hip replacements, what was inside of her pants was worth $1 million -- and she wasn't dropping those drawers for just anyone.
And the winners were a couple, married 58 years next week, who performed a sort of swing dance together. He dipped her several times, dropping her lower and lower only to pop her up for a kiss. I alternated between worry that they'd break a hip or two and delight that they were so obviously still in love. They wore matching pink and white outfits. You could see the tails of his pink shirt through his white pants. She cried when they won.
I can play the flute. Maybe that'll be my talent entry when I'm a senior citizen. What's your talent?