Sunday, July 14, 2013

Oo oo oo. I wanna be like you oo oo.

At one of my high school reunions, an old friend asked me to dance a half dozen times over the evening. I kept telling her I can't dance, but I finally acquiesced and we took the floor. Halfway through the song, she pulled me off the floor, wagged her finger in my face and said, "your wife could TEACH you how to dance."

I've never understood dancing, and sometimes that bums me out.

When I say I don't understand dancing, I don't mean I don't understand why -- I SO do. Who wouldn't want to be part of this unabashed celebration of... well, just having a body. And being around bodies. And music. And people. And friendship, and sweat and love. It looks wonderful, and when people are dancing around me, I find myself staring until I realize I'm being creepy. And then maybe a little more.

No, I understand why folks dance. I just don't understand how. I'm sure I could figure out dances with steps like Swing or Tango; I'm reasonably agile and have some sense of my body in space. But that thing that people do. That beautiful thing. When they hear music and run to an open floor and shout and move and laugh without plan or doubt. That I can't do.

When people ask me to dance, it's kind of like if you were a spectator at the Olympics and someone did a spectacular parallel bar routine, and then it was suddenly your turn.

Here's what happens in my head when I try: 

Ok, gonna do it this time. It's ok, it's just dancing. Low stakes here. Nobody's watching me.

So, first off why don't I watch the other humans and try to do what they're doing. No, the male ones. What the fuck? Why are they all doing different stuff? That's not gonna work.

It can't be that complicated. The music has an organization system -- "beats," I gather -- if I can move one or more of my feet each time one of those "beats" goes off... What the fuck??? Why has each of my feet gained 30 pounds? Conservation of matter and energy alone should preclude that phenomenon...

Wait, I have a partner here. How's she doing? Oh, that's not good. She doesn't have that joyful, "lost in the moment" look I've observed on her in the past. She seems to have a "when's the moment gonna be over" look instead...

How. How do you do it. Somebody tell me, and I will fill your life with tokens of my gratitude. In the meantime, I'll be on the sidelines watching you in the least creepy way I can muster. 

1 comment:

  1. I have found alcohol(lots)to be somewhat helpful.

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