House Parties and Light Hearts
My career in music began in tandem with the house parties my parents used to throw. Mom scurrying to throw on her pressed and laid out party clothes after a day filled with thoroughly scrubbing the house from top to bottom and preparing a spread worthy of the finest hotel buffets. Sometimes I helped chop the veggies for the crystal tray or ensure the Lipton Onion Soup Mix dip was just right. For very special occasions, and in the absence of my father’s palette, I got to be the taste tester for whatever the latest recipe was and ensured my mom it would dazzle our guests. Buffalo wings, shrimp cocktail, brie cheese dip or even savory Gumbo; the menu depended on the season and was as delectable as it looked on the table cloth.
Meanwhile, dad ensured the polished, solid oak “bar” was stocked and that he’s ready to serve cocktails worthy of any downtown bar. He was in charge of welcoming each guest with hand shakes and hugs, compliments and insults (via the dozens), as he warmly greeted each guest.
As for me, time for my real job. I’d switch hats from sous chef to “DJ.” Stacks of my parents’ 78s and 45s and a solid wood turntable with built in speakers were my DJ booth. The Commodores, Earth, Wind & Fire, The Gap Band, Donna Summer, Kool & the Gang; I had them all. Earlier in the day, I had been tasked with pulling the best dance albums and mentally making a playlist to keep the adults groovin’. My measure of success was seeing how quickly a spontaneous soul train line would form and blow the roof off the room addition where the dance floor was located.
Occasionally, daddy would pull me away from my makeshift D.J. booth to dance in the middle of all the adults. I’d act embarrassed for a hot second, then show off my latest moves to shouts of, “Go ‘head, Carol.” I collected the high fives as I exited the stage as if they were trophies. 
When it was time for a break, or the night was getting late, I could sense it and would shift the music to my secondary playlist and slow things down.
So many smiles and laughs, then and now. No troubles in that moment. Everyone gleefully enjoying the sights and sounds of an old fashioned house party. Everyone allowing music to be their muse, creating light hearts and a slate free of troubles, even if only for a few hours and well until the wee hours of the early morning. 
Loved your story as it brought back vivid memories as a teenager growing up with Motown and watching Soul train! Loved my old record player and dancing to my 45's. I couldn't wait to buy a new album after saving my coins in a traditional piggy bank! Ahhh, the good old days of the late sixties and early seventies!
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