Dancer, Texas Pop. 81

I spent a pleasant evening last night viewing this superb portrait of americana. I only wish that I had grown up in such a small town. These kids, teenagers, had it all, most of all solid friendships. I never was able to determine for certain how many if any would leave that fateful Monday morning on the journey to Los Angeles, leaving the small town and its people behind. That some left was inevitable. That some stayed was natural. I would have stayed. As the song at the end said, Dancer may not be on the map, Mr. McNally but it ought to be. I agree. My next visit to West Texas will include it. What a delight I have waiting for me. I feel SO good!!!