Dancing

Susan asked a few questions about a week ago. One that caught my eye was "when was the last time you danced?"

Heh. I think I was born dancing. Not formally trained dancing but just shaking and grooving to the beat. I do remember learning to "Twist". My mom came home with the new Chubby Checker album that taught the world to twist. We practiced and practiced. It was quite fun to know that there was a methodology employed when dancing. You didn't just stand and tap your foot, there was actually a striking number of ways to move about to the beat. When I was twelve, in MIA (youth group), they told us we could go to youth dances when we turned 14. An edict was passed that we should all learn the proper technique of dancing. We gathered each week for a two months to go through the steps of various styles. First of course, a waltz. Okay there is nothing more amusing than watching a bunch of 12 and 13 year olds, trying to get a basic box step going while holding the hand of a member of the opposite sex. Hilarious, it must of been to the instructors. We moved on to the Bosanova, the Fox Trot and the Cha Cha. By the end we could all move about with ease. Not to say we ever used our formal training for any dances we attended. It did however, help us understand the importance of regular practice.

It was 7th grade. The Beach Boys enticed us to dance, as did the Moody Blues, the Rolling Stones, Deep Purple and a myriad of others. We did the froog, the watusi, the swim, and best of all the skate. Dance, dance, dance. With boys! Yay. Every dance was a new dress, new shoes and a new guy. Oh I could rattle off a list of names. Boys cames and went like dresses. It really didn't matter who the guy was, as long as he would dance! Remember, it was only 7th grade. I wanted to dance more than spend time with boys. They were cute, and weren't interested in anything more than dancing either. It was fun.

Then came high school. The occasional school dance, church dances and Saturday night dances in Carlsbad. We would spend the day at the beach frying ourselves to a crisp, so we could be as sunburnt as possible, it was a must. We were beach girls! Each dance featured a great band, dancing until midnight, every Saturday night of the summer. One dance featured a new band. It was rumored that they were seeking a recording contract and that there were scouts watching the performance. The dance started out slow, until they played a slow song. It got everyone to the floor. The song was a hit and so was the night. Evidently the scouts liked what they witnessed that evening. Later int he summer, Three Dog Night released their first album. The hit song being, One. It was the same song as the one at the dance.

I have been dancing ever since. Except of course when i started dating a guy in the band. I would softly sway to the beat and turn down offers to dance for a short time. Then once our relationship was a steady one, I could take to the floor with other guys without a problem. The only real problem came after he quit the band. He didn't dance. He made music, not danced to it, I was informed. I couldn't believe it. I had fallen in love with a guy who wouldn't dance! Arrrrrgh! So my dancing has now become solo. In the car, in the house, and even sometimes standing in line at a store! Ask my daughters how I have pleaded with them to make sure the guy they choose to marry danced! Out of three marriages we have one non dancer, one well okay if I have to dancer, and one mosh pitter. Don't worry girls, we'll dance together!

Last time I danced? On the way to work listening to The Outfield just last Friday!