I'm afraid to actually start the Sock Hop Proper. The last time I actually went to a prom, my boyfriend broke up with me the week before the prom, started going steady with a girl I loathed, forcing me to accept my brother-in-law's little brother as my date. He started drinking by the time we pulled out of my parents' driveway, threw up on my dyed-to-match shoes after the second song and I actually was home before midnight the night of my senior prom. Ugh.

The only triumph in all this is that, when I went back for my high school reunion summer before last, I looked MUCH better than she does.

I think I'll join Michael K. in the corner and cleverly disguise myself behind a pair of dark glasses, looking urbane and sophisticated, pretending I'm really above all this nonsense. Maybe we'll wait 'til the band takes a break, stage a bloodless coup and take over the bandstand. Want to play me some Ella standards, Michael?