Dance. I love to dance. Ballet, okay. Jazz, good. Tap, I like to make some noise. Jazzercise, tried it. Zumba, liked it. But I like to D A N C E. No watch the instructor, repeat the steps and find out what a klutz or what a rule breaker you are. I’m talking about 80s music HS dance or wedding crazy abandonment. You know where you just dance like there is no tomorrow, move around to the cheesy tunes whatever way the music moves you, and you do not care about how you look?!
My two favorite dancing movies? Of course Footloose, the original. Dancing for fun. Dancing to break the rules. Dancing to be free. Sweet Jesus, my feet are tapping and shuffling just thinking about Kevin Bacon’s mean moves.
Second dancing movie, Shag. If you are not familiar, it is about 4 girls heading to Myrtle Beach instead of Fort Sumter to basically, find be free. As Carson says in the movie, “This was our last weekend together, and we didn’t feel like going to Fort Sumter and touring goddamn colonial homes. We wanted to go to the beach and meet boys and go to wild parties and dance.” I wish West Michigan was a Shag haven, because I would be out there every night sliding and spinning in my penny loafers. Now my heart is sweeping across the floor longing for a little shaggin’ tonight.
I think I need to start my own dance club. The club would play every great dance song from every generation. Fox trot, polka, square dance, shimmy, waltz, you name it, we’d dance the night away. A great variety for every generation. Like a good wedding mix, where the white-haired to the young hip hoppers to the 80s wanna be would find a dancing home. Until then, I’ll turn up the Songza volume and spin, slide, worm, and funk my way around my living room.
As Julia Roberts said in My Best Friend’s Wedding, “I’ve got moves you’ve never seen.”