I love to dance.  No, I really, really love to dance.  If you know me, you know I’m telling the truth.  So when M. put out the call to meet at the bar for Gal Holiday and the Honky Tonk Revue, I was in.  I hopped on my bike and headed down to the Marigny.  It was one of those thick nights, strangely cool and hot at the same time.  By the time I made it down the band had been playing for a good 45 minutes.  And they are good.  Gal has an amazing voice, and the way she sings the standards–Bob Wills, Johnny Cash, Patsy–makes me move.  I expected to see the dance floor hopping, but no such luck tonight.  I snapped this picture of Gal and the band, but there’s no crowd around them, like there really should be!  I am happy to dance by myself, but a real party is when everybody’s dancing, when the electricity passes through the crowd, when strangers are all your dance partners, and the sweat and heat and sound are your air.  So I was a little disappointed, and surprised at the ability of so many people to stay in their seats.  But I stomped around and danced and had a wonderful time, and I’m definitely feeling like some Jazz Fest is in order this weekend.  I’m guaranteed to find some fellow dancers there.