Sunday, April 21, 2013

On Dancing


Last night we celebrated the marriage of my nephew at his wedding reception in Maplewood, MN. It was a great time with lots of food, laughter, words and music.

They hired a DJ and, like most weddings, the dance floor ebbed and flowed with people throughout the course of the evening. As was always the case, the young kids (ages 6-12) were first out on the floor because they are the least inhibited. After a couple of songs, the adults started trickling on, and after that it becomes a ripple effect. Those that like to dance tend to take the chance at weddings to release some inhibitions and cut a rug.

I am one of those. Truth be told, I love to dance.

This is not a good thing.

Those who have seen me dance can attest to my undeveloped sense of rhythm and style. If dancing has rules, I'm a felon. I'm a freestyler from way back and I intend to keep it that way. This never translates to a thing of beauty on the dance floor, especially given my height, but I'm OK with that.

Way back in the 80's I had a friend who was a dance instructor for Arthur Murray's in Minneapolis. He got me a free introductory lesson deal that I thought I'd try out. I went in and they took an hour or so to try and teach the basics for about 5 different styles of dance. Cha cha, ma rumba, swing, etc. Well, I think I failed. The reason I failed was because I have a problem with any dance that has rules to it. This includes line dancing, electric slide, etc. You can't tell me how to dance. Like Frank Sinatra, I'll do it my way.

I did it in the 80's with my Chuck Berry duck-walk imitation and even a little break dancing. Last night I polkaed with my daughter for the first time, and, yes I stepped on her toes too. My wedding video is testament to t the fact that I can be smooth on my feet, and completely free on the dance floor. The DJ even referred to Donna and I as Fred and Ginger. It was hilariously fun and I'll never forget it. I did the same with friends at my sister's wedding a few years before. It's almost like I can't help myself when the music starts. I need a 12 step program for dance. Or maybe a familial intervention.

If you think about it it's a weird thing anyway. People jumping, twitching, shaking, twisting and writhing all to a bunch of sounds strung together in the name of music. What possesses people to have their feet take over the rest of their body and suddenly drop all their worries and shake like a chicken? I'm not sure, but I'm a victim too, and when it's over and done with and I'm a sweaty mess, its a great feeling.

At the same time, I think it's a great outlet for anyone. If you can't let your hair down a little bit then you're too uptight for me. Worried about what people think? So are most of the people on the floor. So get over it and get out there, and watch out for me.

I'll be the one doing the sprinkler.

Blogging off...

No comments: