In the 30's when they lived in the Bronx, Grammy and Grampy would cruise down to the Apollo maybe once a month. Catch the new acts.
That was back when all the cool cats in Harlem sported pointy tan patent leather shoes. Very pointy. Grampy had a buddy who rocked a pair of the toe-crampers. Bernie worked for a butcher uptown.
He would show up at the Club with chicken guts all over his feet.
But he was a gorgeous dancer. Floated in the air. Like a dream.