Denis Lehane: A 'Liveline' appeal for the return of the slow set
The demise of the slow set and the disco in general, was one of the greatest crimes ever perpetrated on the citizens of rural Ireland.
If there is one thing I feel passionately about, it's the slow set.
Over the years, I have written extensively about its demise and my longing for its return.
Like Kennedy and the moon, or a dog with a bone, I refuse to let it go.
Convinced the slow set will return one day, the dream lives on.
And then last week, out of the blue, came a big boost to the campaign for the return of the slow set.
, RTÉ's flagship radio programme rung auld Lehane, right here in the kitchen, wondering if I might like to make the case for the return of the slow set over the national airwaves.
And being a fool in many ways, but in none of the ways that matter, I jumped at the chance.
Like a young ram jumps into a field of breeding ewes, I was on it in no time.
Suave, debonair and insightful, I made as much sense on the radio, as I do on paper.
I highlighted the fact the slow set had saved me from a life of bachelorhood, but many were not so fortunate.
I was one of the lucky ones, I found a wife before the shutters came down on the ideal matchmaking tool.
Well, as you might expect, after my emotional plea, quickly became a hotline, with callers from all over the country ringing in to support the call.
The wailing for the return of Bonnie Tyler, Michael Bolton and Foreigner was unprecedented.
"So what now?" you might wonder.
Well after Katie Hannon's intervention, after the push, I feel the slow set is bound to come back.
All we need to do now is prepare for its return.
So quickly gallop upstairs, open your wardrobe and stretch in the hand as far as it will go.
See if you can retrieve those old denim dancing jeans that you wore back in the 80s. The ones that made you look like Bruce Springsteen. See if they still fit.
And don't worry if you can't fasten a button or the zip refuses to cooperate.
Gloria Estefan here we come.
And don't worry about that bald head either. Sure, we are all bald now. Wear a cap if you like. Nobody will notice once the disco lights are flashing.
Once that old cold fog starts to rise, nobody will care about what is going on up above.
The head is for farming, the feet are for dancing.
The same is true for the bags under your eyes, the under-pressure stress lines on your face and the bad hip.
The disco my friend, once a crutch to us all, will be your crutch again.
Trust me, I know what I am talking about.
And if the car is up on blocks, don't fret either. I suspect a disco bus will return too, just like the old days.
We never had a problem when we needed to get to Wilburys nightclub back in the day, and it won't be an issue for us now either.
All you really need is to ensure your mother has an extra place set at the table.
The way we are going, your blues will soon be chased away.
