The Day The Dancing Stopped

From time to time the death of a celebrity truly rocks the world. Sometimes an entertainment icon leaves behind a legacy far greater than he or she would have known in life. Often the passing of someone who has given so much to the hearts and minds of people the world over is just damn difficult to accept. Earlier this week such an entertainment behemoth left this plane of existence. Good morning all, this is John and the death of Fred "Rerun" Berry, from the canon What's happening?, has left me truly unable to sing the show's theme.


I received the devastating news earlier this week. I sat there, frozen, as the worst news I'd heard in days rolled across the bottom of the screen. A tear squeezed itself from my eye and trickled down my cheek as memories of the most lovable, dancing tub of goo raced through my mind.


I was taken back to the mid eighties when after school I would tune in faithfully to New York's channel 5 to enjoy the lineup of The Monkees, the Spiderman series from the sixties which was then followed by the show that made Rerun a household name. The man just loved to dance and to drink grape soda. And on this, the event of his death, so should I. I went rummaging through my closet and eventually found my red beret and matching suspenders and wept heavily as I donned them one last time. I popped and locked and flipped and split in my mirror as more tears raced down my face. Upon looking closer into my mirror I noticed that I had the rhythm of a coked-up, paraplegic Charlie Chaplin, but I was not swayed in my memorial boogaloo. Not one bit. It was then that I realized that I was without a drop of grape soda in my icebox. No requiem for the illustrious "Rerun" would be complete without it so I made haste to the closest Quick-e Mart to procure the sweet and bubbly nectar loved so much by he whose skill dwarfed that of Baryshnikov.


"Will this be all for you Mr. Chaplin?" The Hindu behind the bulletproof glass muttered.


"Yes, Marf, that'll be all." I replied, fighting back even more tears. "You know Rerun has died, don't you?" I asked, sniffling away like a punished child.


"Great Ganesha! Say it isn't so!" He barked back. He faded off into memory just like I had earlier and before I walked out of the door I turned and broke into dance. Pop, shap, birdie-flap, spin, point, wiggle, birdie-flap again then down into the splits, up again with a spin, then pose. Marf, with tears in his eyes did the same. We danced at one another for what seemed like an eternity. A finer memorial break-battle the world had never seen. Customer after customer entered and left, leaving money on the counter not daring to interrupt this tearful tribute. Finally, with a salute and a nod, I took my leave and headed home where I climbed to the roof and stared at the stars.


The constellations slowly formed the image of Rerun and my eyes welled up again. I took a sip of the grape soda I'd purchased and for the first and last time I began to break-battle with the night sky. I soon found myself exhausted and fell to my knees, then to my back as I panted and wheezed (Yeah I'm still out of shape, fuck off!). I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep where Rerun, Raj, Dwayne and Shirley would forever grace the small screen.


Now I know this is a difficult time for all of us. Maybe with time, a lot of time, we all will be able to pull ourselves together and find it somewhere deep within ourselves to move on.


Freddy, Rerun, this one is for you. Pop, spin, splits, shabadoo, birdie-flap, and point.