Some Dance to Remember, Some Dance to Forget

I wrote this while on Koh Pha-Ngan, and I dedicate it to it:


The morning sun was shining over the Northern Pacific on the tiny island of Koh Pha-Ngan. It was just past eight and most of the island's inhabitants were asleep, recovering from last night's partying, or lying restless on their beds in the thick, humid heat. A few stray dogs slept with their snouts gently nuzzled in the sand. Some locals swept the wooden porches of their beachside restaurant bars, readying for the crowds to come.

Unable to sleep, Miguel made his way to the beach. He held his sandals as he hung his head and plodded through the soft, white sand. From time to time, he looked out past the magnificent cliff and bungalows that hung over the beach, past the calm blue waves to the vast, vast ocean.

Joseph, like Miguel a fellow traveller, walked from the opposite end of the beach. Tired and hungover, he too walked dejectedly, staring at the sand as the sun glared off it. With his worn, faithful guitar in hand, he walked out to where the waves broke, once he saw two butterflies flutter and circle each other over them. His pace quickened as he felt joy and comfort from the rhythm of his feet, slushing in the wet sand. When he awoke that morning, he was determined to write, to stumble into a song. He would stay at the beach, facing west, facing tomorrow, until it "came" to him.

Miguel lifted his head and saw Joseph, the only other person there, as he approached. He saw something akin in his worn shorts, in the tattered brown shirt that he wore, but most importantly, in his measured walk, in those searching blue eyes. He held his guitar as if he always walked with it.

The two walked towards each other.

"Hey man," Miguel said.

"Hey bro," Joseph responded. "Didn't I see you last night, dancing like a madman, around the fire?"

"Some dance to remember, and some dance to forget," Miguel replied.

"Which one was it for you?"

"I guess the latter. Sometimes I close my eyes and want to dance until I dissolve into the music."

"That's how I feel, when I'm really playing," Joseph replied with a grin.

They paused and listened as a wave broke.

"So you know 'Hotel California'?" Joseph asked.

"Of course I do. The song is sheer poetry."

"Can you sing it?"

"I know the lyrics, but my voice ain't nothing to write home about," Miguel chuckled.

"Let's play it. Let's play it right here," Joseph said as he sat on the beach and peered up at Miguel.

"Okay!" Miguel replied as he tossed his sandals to the side and took a seat, cross-legged, in front of him. He looked up to the sky, to the top of the cliff overlooking the beach, as a group of swifts darted to and fro.

The unmistakeable first notes of the song rung as Joseph plucked the opening chords. Miguel waited for the verse and sung it. When the song finished, Joseph held the last chord until the notes faded with the waves. The two sat and grinned when they noticed that a band of dogs had gathered around them.

"You were good, man!" Joseph said.

"Only because you played great," Miguel responded.

The crazy mutt that Miguel had seen running and jumping over sunbathers the day before, walked and sat attentively before him. He laughed as he leaned forward to pat the top of his damp head.

"Oh man, this dog was goin' bonkers at the beach yesterday, chasing a butterfly's shadow, leaping over people as they laid out on their towels. Then, he'd run and hop out into the waves for no reason, and come back, soaked and barking at no one. He pooped himself out and took a nap by my feet," Miguel told him.

"I guess the lil' fellar's taken a liking to you?" Joseph said as he reached over his guitar to pat the golden-haired mutt gently on his thin, scarred side.

"Crazy is as crazy does!"

They laughed.

"You think they want another one?" Joseph asked.

"I suppose they do, if they bothered to gather here."

"What should we give 'em?"

"What do ya like to play?"

"The blues and folk mostly. I've found, in my travels, that most people, no matter where they're from, can find some connection from that music."

"Play us some Marley," said one of the dogs.

"No, no, play us some Elvis," asked another.

"No, no, no. Marley. Play us some Bob Marley," said another dog with a distinctive Thai verbal emphasis yet trying to cop a Rasta accent.

"Aren't you guys tired of him? I've been here just a few days and I see and hear him everywhere, yet, no one can make a decent burrito in this town," Miguel said.

"Burrito?" asked Joseph.

"A burrito, man. I think joints, reggae, a carefree spirit, excellent shakes and solid burritos should be a part of any beach culture."

"I'm down with that," Joseph said, just as the wacky mutt requested some Beach Boys.

"Beach Boys, you say?"

The mutt barked and wagged his tail voraciously.

"Which songs do you know?" Joseph asked Miguel.

"I know one song and one song only, 'Don't Worry Baby'," Miguel responded.

"Good, because I know that one."

Several of the dogs barked and wagged their tails as they sat and watched them play it, with Joseph and a few of the dogs cooing the back-up melodies.

After the song, most of the dogs barked their applause as the two sat and laughed at that moment. Joseph looked off to the clouds as he saw a bird fly off towards the sun, which glowed behind the morning cover.

"Well, I should be on my way," Joseph said.

Miguel stood as Joseph flung his guitar to rest on his back.

"It was an honor," Miguel said as he shook Joseph's with both of his hands, which he turned into a hug.

"Mine too. This was such a nice surprise."

"Take care of yourself."

"You too, bro. Happy trails."

"Happy trails to you, too." Joseph said as he waved and continued along the beach.

The band of stray beach dogs, except the golden-haired one that liked to nip at butterfly shadows, quietly went their ways. One male dog was trying to entice a lady one with a stash of half-eaten prawns in tamarind sauce he had found and tucked away. Miguel stared down at the mutt before kneeling next to him.

"So what's your name?" he asked it.

"I don't have an owner so you can name whatever you want for today," the mutt replied.

"Oh pup, I couldn't do that. It would make me sad if I knew you had a different name everyday, depending on which tourist you happened to befriend," Miguel said as he softly petted the dog on top of his head and behind his ears.

The dog, in turn, licked Miguel's wrist.

"Say, I see a couple of butterflies over there," Miguel said and pointed to a group of beautiful yellow ones that fluttered over the breaking waves.

"This is where I shine!" the dog said as he barked and bounded like a rabbit, over the waves. Miguel chucked his shirt and sandals behind him and jumped and ran after him.

He dove into the water and swam past the dog, which gleefully paddled in the water with his tongue hanging out. Miguel stood and smiled at him before looking to the sun, which began to shine through the clouds.

"Oh papa, what do you want of me?" he said as he closed his eyes and felt the sun's rays glisten with each passing wave.