It commenced on the afternoon of Nov. 23, 1996 at the Salem County Sportsmen’s Club  in Deepwater, N.J. It wasn’t planned as a convention per se, but that is what the wedding reception for The Rambler and The Wife became that day.
The picture at right wasn’t taken when we entered, but later when we were in full honky  mode. I think I was getting ready to snap my fingers and The Wife…well, I’d best leave that one alone.
Needless to say, it went all downhill from there.
The man on the far left  “got the party started” when he tossed his coat aside reminiscent of Tony Manero. That was the signal for all the white people in the room to get on the floor and dance or do some semblance thereof. Of course, being that some of the folks in the room were septuagenerian didn’t mean they got out there too quickly or did the Humpty or anything.
No honky dancing convention is complete without The Train:
Or The Macarena:
Can you blame me?
 Despite the note on the front page that “The Bar is looking fo a couple of experienced bar tenders.”, this place was as honky as they come. Did you not see the giant fish in the pictures and the flagpoles in the background? Only thing missing: a framed photo of Lee Greenwood.
 It would be one of the lasting memories of our dear friend, Chris, who died of throat cancer less than three years after this photo was taken.