“To” is a preposition; “cancel” is a verb: It’s 1989, OK, all across the USA: It’s, It’s a Ballroom Blitz: Part One: Very funny, fellas, let’s go!

In the annals of rock history, along with the magnificent success stories, there have been many spectacular disasters. Altamont. The Who in Cincinnati. Sly Stone.

And in the annals of the postwar American struggle for freedom of expression, there have been many casualties. Lenny Bruce. George Carlin. Larry Flynt. Terry Southern. Paul Krassner.

But there is only one event I know of that brutally combines rock and roll mayhem with blistering, inappropriate obscenity, and that is the event – or series of events – known to savvy historians as “The Ballroom Blitz of DeKalb 1989.”

Over the course of these following days and weeks will unfold, here and elsewhere, that story.

It’s a complicated story, with many players, and events and conflicts, and to those not directly involved, it might seem a little bit “inside” at times, but the major elements are more or less universal. Fun, sex, hate, strife, money, passion, work, play, immortality, tears, laughter, music, Jesus, hope, fear, youth, violence, art, rebellion, confusion – the whole human condition.

With the exception of, perhaps, death. Nobody died. Not literally, anyway. But I can give you injuries. Oh yes, there were injuries. (Cue the mysteriously foreshadowing Foley effect of various objects shattering over skulls, at various times, in various places.)

Next time around, we’ll set the stage. Introduce some of the characters and situations, get the ball really rolling. But for now, first, we need a theme song. So here that is. Let’s go!