Oh, it is so wrong that she’s gone… her music was so intimate a part of my coming out summer.
The summer of 1973 – Champaign, Illinois, gay bar named “Balloon Saloon” fondly nick named the “Baboon Spittoon”.
Oh we danced ourselves to near exhaustion under the strobes, sweat flew from our long hair and the cigarette smoke made the disco light sooo pretty…
And we’d drink, and go out back to smoke a joint, and then dance again, and then head (to someone’s) home to take a shower. The BF of the moment and I would suck and fuck each other until dawn – and then a bottle of Coca-Cola with a shot of whatever was around, a quick shower and off to work.
And Donna was always there – serenading our lives, enhancing our loves, counterpointing our tantrums and contradicting our weepy / awesome LSD confessions with her glorious music.
She was our disco goddess and we were her disco acolytes. She’ll be my disco diva until I breathe my last.
Ah… it is difficult when an important component of one’s youth dies. Damn it.