Everybody Plays the Fool

 

“Eveeryboody plaays the foooool…” Singing Woman belts out into the locker room,  rocking to the beat, her half-dressed body swaying back and forth, ass leading the way.

            Two other women, besides me, are still in the locker room here at the Kennedy High Pool. They’re both sitting on the benches chatting away while slowly putting their belongings in various bags and purses. They’re African American too, like Singing woman, and a knowing smile comes over their faces as Singing Woman continues to croon.

            One of them nods, then a loud sigh of agreement, “Ummmmmmm.” Her friend nods too, and then they both start in on the song too. The locker room fills with their sweet harmonies: “Everybooody plaaayss the fool!” they chorus.

            No one glances at me. I want to join in, but wonder if I’d be intruding. I know the song. Not all the words of course, but the opening refrain and melody. I used to spend Saturday mornings watching Soul Train as a teenager in Irvine. I loved the dancing. The music. The exuberance. It was so far from the classical music I studied. Chopin. Debussy. Rachmaninoff.

            Yet, whenever I watched Soul Train, I was swept away. I would dance along to the music. The Temptations. Sly and the Family Stone. Tina Turner.

            All black artists.

            I didn’t know any black people growing up in Irvine. All of my friends were white, middle class, suburban kids of the 70’s. I didn’t know anything different. Was my enchantment with Soul Train a longing for a culture I didn’t know? How could that be?

            Today, I live in the Bay Area, specifically, Richmond, where diversity is taken for granted. My neighborhood has people of all races: Latino, Black, Asian, and of course, White.

            I like the variety of people. I’m learning Spanish so that I can talk to my neighbors. Sometimes I get an opportunity to do this, but it’s elementary, like a five-year-old.  “Hola, Como esta? ¿Muy bien, y tú? ¿Como esta su perro? Él es viejo. ¡Yo también!”

            But that’s about it.

            Yet, with these women today, I feel like I’m part of their group because of the pool. We are all here swimming together, showering together, dressing together.

            So, why don’t I join in with their song?

            I’m not sure. Maybe it was cuz I felt shy. Or didn’t want to intrude on their shared cultural experience. Yet, I imagine, they would have been fine with my joining in.

            I guess I’ll never know.

            Unless Singing Woman takes up another Soul Train Greatest Hit. Then, I’ll join in. Maybe next time, she’ll sing another R&B classic, like Gladys Knight and the Pips, “Midnight Train to Georgia,” or “Dancing Machine” by the Jackson 5.

            Yet, I hope Everybody Plays a Fool comes up again. Lord knows, I’ve played the fool enough times to sing about it. But that’s a story for another day.

In the meantime, enjoy The Main Ingredient:

Everybody Plays the Fool