"Gotta Dance! Gotta Dance!" Hang on just one second, stop the music - everyone I run into is taking dancing lessons. And I'm not talking rock and roll ; I'm talking sway and dip. It seems the hard core rockers have turned from Mick Jagger swagger to Fred Astaire flair. What happened? Have we become old fuddy duddies or have tennis elbows and arthritic knees finally taken a toll? The baby boomers have turned in their rackets and Nikes for ballroom attire. All my friends are off to dance studios for fun and exercise and I'm still wrapping my knees in Ace bandages and limping and groaning my way up the lakefront. I guess I gotta dance too.
I remember the dancing lessons we had to take in 5th grade. The Box Step was the entry level move. I wasn't very good at geometry so forming a box with my feet was confusing. I made Jimmy Adler trip and fall when I moved my right foot forward instead of my left. Thankfully his cast was only on for a few weeks. I was much more adept at the Cha Cha. One, two, cha cha cha - that was easy to remember and didn't require geometry. I also was quite a good jitter bugger. Of course this depended on someone actually asking me to dance. There was absolutely nothing worse than being the only one not dancing - a 5th grade girl's biggest nightmare. It still strikes terror in my heart, which makes me not want to dance ever again.
I recently met a bellydancing Veterinarian. She told me it's a great way to dance yourself into shape. "Do you dance for the dogs?" I was dying to ask her but didn't. It sounded to me however, like a great way to put your back in spasm and need a Chiropractor. Is pole dancing still a craze? I was really really bad at gymnastics and fell off the rope more than I ever climbed it so I'm certain pole dancing would land me in the emergency room. Ballroom dancing sounds safe and I doubt they start with the Box Step anymore so my fear of geometry would be irrelevant. It's probably decent exercise and not too hard on your knees until the Tango at which time I would quit because I'm sure I'd trip and fall in the requisite high heels and also look bad in a black veil.
I'm happy so many people are Fox Trotting for fun and sport but until I hear that Mick Jagger has given up gyrating for the Waltz there are no dancing lessons in my future.
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Today's blog reminded me of my answer to the question: "What's the worst advice your mother ever gave you?"
That's an easy one for me. By far the worst advice mom gave me was, "Remember that it takes a lot of courage for a boy to ask you to dance, so never turn it down."
Thus, from 6th grade on every loser caught on quickly that I wouldn't turn them down, so I'd spend my night dancing with every divot there. A hunk couldn't get in a dance if he wanted to.
So, you say, at least you were dancing...oh,oh, oh, it was torture! I'd have to watch less popular girls chatting it up with the eye candy! :-( -Kit
Are you crazy - "not too hard on your knees". Have you ever watched Dancing with the Stars? That's ball room dancing. Every season someone is crippled, maimed and carted off to the emergency room. When Heather Mills was on, she took a huge fall, fortunately her prosthetic (I didn't check the spelling on that so no commments from the spelling queens)leg did not come off. I don't think there is any safe dancing. Even the chicken dance is dangerous. You have to flap your arms and do a couple of squats while twisting.
The cha cha for old people is - one, two fart-fart-fart. Even your mother can do that.
I went to a City Center dance in NYC one St. Patty's Day and ended up dancing in perpetuity with the skinniest female bodybuilder ever. Her arms were like steel holding me at a distance, her back was straight as a brick wall and her face was set like flint against a storm.
Naturally, I got her at the beginning of the set and during the entire 67 songs there was not a word said. Somewhere in the middle of this grueling event I asked her name - Brrrrrrridget was the answer. I said "That's a nice name" while thinking Oh shit!!
At the end of the dance she walked over to one of the long benches where other Irish (and Scotch, I guess) girls were sitting. Actually the bench was filled so she picked up one end and most slid off.
I left before the band came back. Another fight broke out so it was probably time anyway.
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