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30 may 2001

one two three, one two three

Looks and a great personality! I have seen my future, and it is brusque.

Now before I get all cranked up here, let me preface all of this by saying, God bless 'em. May someone have mercy on all those happy souls who are seized by the music and will shamelessly dance--regardless of ability, risk of injury, or giggling in the back of the room.

Me, I've got a pretty low embarrassment threshold. I will admit to having taken lessons before public dancing displays. It was for everyone's good.

When I was a kid, I did not want to be ballerina. I wanted to run around in circles, climb, and jump on things until I was either knocked unconscious or restrained. I was, in the nicest way, euphorically graceless. Organized, choreographed movement was a waste of my time. I wanted no part of it. I was all about willy-nilly.

Add to this that I went to high school in the 80's. Like all high schools, we had dances. Unfortunately, social dancing went horribly awry sometime between Bobby Day and the Squirrel Nut Zippers , and us 80's kids were rendered pimply and spastic in high school gyms across America. We flailed to Oingo Boingo and Phil Collins, and stepped on one another's toes to Lionel Richie. My only saving grace was summertime, and the weekly square and contra dances in Montreat. Not exactly prom material, but did require enough coordination to save me from my New Wave past.

We cast much shame on our jitterbugging parents' homes. Think pulled curtains and surreptitious lessons. All, of course, to no avail. Whether you know it or not, your parents came this close to wrapping you in your Members Only jacket and throwing you in the lake.

Dancing: I didn't get it.

Fast-forward to now, and many swing dancing lessons later. I've got even more contra dances under my belt. And yet, you'd think that with my sorded, uncoordinated past, I could refrain from giggling during the moments I sometimes witness.

There was a band playing during LEAF this past weekend, an Afro-Cuban jazz quintet. They had many of us on our feet. Unfortunately, a couple of the guys behind me nearly had their feet in my ribs. Have you ever seen that episode of Seinfeld where Elaine dances? Okay, that, all around me. Or, there were a few men and women "feeling the music"--this strange meditative, body-wiggling, arm-flailing thing.

Between dancing, Friend X and I watched with wonder. I felt kind of guilty, thinking maybe they should either clear out more space, or sit down before someone gets hurt. Did I go to high school with them? Is there a dancing intervention rehab program? HEY that's my knee!

A hint: when dancing, you sometimes only need to move one or two body parts. It's also a good rule of thumb that all four limbs should not be simultaneously airborne.

And yet, they dance anyway.

So they don't know the moves. They still know something that I don't. Give glee a lot of room.