Tuesday, January 4, 2011

I Remember the Good Times Baby Now

For the past two years, at our staff holiday party, a new and (to me) disturbing trend has developed. After the buffet, after dessert, and after the raffle (this year I won two tickets to Steppenwolf!) people have started to dance.

Wild dancing, line dancing, Dancing-with-the-Stars dancing.

One of my catalogers and I stood on the edge of the dance floor, clutching our drinks in hand and talking about dancing. My cataloger, J., is a super cute woman in her mid/late 20s. Her main objection to the dancing was doing it at a work function. Mine came more from being a woman in my early 40s who came of age at a time/place with limited dance opportunities. In middle school, some boys were into break dancing, but not girls. And by the time high school rolled along, we mostly went to clubs and ... stood around clutching drinks. I can say that I have at least managed to expand my emotional range since then beyond Goth impassivity and teenage surly scowl.

Ever since that conversation, dancing has been on my mind. I've had several grim dancing experiences.

1. "The Wiz" tryouts sophomore year of High School. Two of my friends at the time, Nancy S. and Stacey B., were both perky, happy high school girls. They were also both coordinated. The choreography required to be a munchkin stressed me out way too much and I decided to cheer them on from a seat in the audience instead.

2. Bellydance/burlesque dance classes. I enjoyed the fundamentals classes of both where you could stand there and do drills but once again, the choreography was beyond me.

3. Ballroom dance class with a boyfriend who had recently dumped me. I like to think that the emotional awkwardness of that class led to my difficulty with the box step, but I'm pretty sure my two left feet played a part. I'd like to say "our four left feet" but the boyfriend went on to successfully navigate some contra dance classes. As my revenge (for being a better dancer, not dumping me) I plan on trampling his left foot and his right foot during a box step move if we dance at his upcoming wedding.

After posting about Toto and Africa, I realized that both of those bands and all four awful songs got under my skin more from MTV than the radio. Early MTV may also be to blame for my bad dancing because I loved this video.



Come to think of it, that sparkly red dress would be PERFECT for next year's Holiday Party and I bet no one would even notice my dance moves if I was wearing red pantyhose.

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