Dance of a mythical Gypsy

We are thinking about becoming Gypsies. It looks like a lot more fun than what we are doing now. They seem to travel to exotic locations, live off the land and dance away the hours. If they get sick, they have magic potions and spells to ward off evil and they seem to have an innate ability to identify werewolves, a useful skill.

Of course I am talking about the-old time, fictional Gypsies, not the new-style ones that are an integral part of society. No, I am talking about a sort of idealized, romantic version as perpetuated in those movie stereotypes. My name would be Billa.

Travel

This looks like great fun. They seem to use horse-drawn wagons. Great! We like horses and don’t mind the upkeep. Horses are kind of like big dogs. If you treat them halfway decently they really like you. They don’t care what you look like or if you bathe regularly, which is a good thing because bathing is not a strong point of the old Gypsy life. In fact, during the era we are talking about, it wasn’t a big deal for anybody. This was probably how that 3-foot personal distance thing got started.

Living off the land

You might think this means hunting and gathering. Well, yes, sort of. The hunting was mostly for easy pickings in the crowd who would gather to watch the colorful dances and listen to the music.

I would use one of those signs that pickpockets used to use in the airports to find out what pocket you kept your money in. The sign would say “Caution, pickpockets in area.” This makes you instinctively touch your wallet to make sure it is still there. Well, it won’t be for much longer.

Gathering usually refers to crops and things found growing in the wild. Well, there is not so much wild anymore, so I hope the co-op won’t mind if we just help ourselves to a few ears of this roadside corn and some apples and those watermelons and … Gathering can also be done in stores if you wear really baggy pants with big pockets.

Dancing and playing

Dancing I can do. I used to do a pretty mean Bugaloo.

Playing I can do, too, unless they mean music. I can’t even really whistle well, much less play an actual instrument. I am not sure how they taught themselves to play the violin, mandolin and accordion. Hey, where did they get the money for that? Those things are expensive. Oh yeah. The hunting thing.

Colorful garb

No problem. I think I have a box of tie-dyed T-shirts upstairs.  They are packed with my tambourine.

Bill Abrams lives the Gypsy life in Pine Plains.

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