The Telephone Call

This short story is one person's side of the telephone call. Can you guess what the person on the other side of the line was saying?

Hello, it's me, I just called to say, we're having a party, bring over some of your old Motown records...

A celebration, so bring your good times and your laughter too...

They don't write 'em like that anymore...

Those were the days, my friend. We had joy. We had fun When this old world starts getting me down, I've found a paradise, that's trouble proof. Those oldies but goodies remind me of a simpler place and time.

I'm only looking for a fantasy, not in the mood for reality. Party, party, party. Makin' a scene with the record machine. Everybody's chillin' as I set up the groove, spill the wine...

People have the right to party, and you don't let them have their fun. In bed, throw the covers on your head, pretend like you are dead, but I know it, before this night is through, oh baby, the rhythm is gonna get you.

Give me the music. Let the music take control. All we need is music, sweet music; swinging, swaying, records playing; doesn't matter what you wear, just as long as you are there. It's just an invitation; a chance for folks to meet. They'll be laughter, singing...

Every generation blames the one before, and all of their frustrations come bleeding on your door. Stilted conversations, I'm afraid that's all we got; can't get agreement in this present tense, we all talk a different language, talking in defense. Music is a world within itself, a language we all understand, with an equal opportunity for all to sing, dance and clap their hands. There's music in the air and lots of loving everywhere, so come out tonight, and we'll lead the others on a ride through paradise.

I think it's so groovy now, that people are bound to get together; being together on this special day, sing our message loud and clear. If I had the chance, I'd ask the world to dance. Are we looking for a better way of life? Here's a chance to dance our way out of our constrictions. One nation under a groove; we are part of the rhythm nation.