First, let me reassure you by saying that, no matter what, you are not the worst dancer. I am. That means, for the rest of you, the worst case scenario is penultimate suckage. Rejoice!
My position as “Worst Dancer Humanity Has Ever Known,” may be somewhat surprising, given that I started taking dance lessons when I was 3 years old. This had less to do with any real affinity for dancing on my part and more to do with ballet and tap lessons being de rigueur for little girls in the 1970s. As far as I was concerned, I got to wear a costume, stand on a stage and have a crowd of people stare at me. If I wasn't a particularly gifted performer, it never bothered me – a defect of personality that continues to this day.
Upbeat. Downbeat. You'd think I'd accidentally bump into one of them from time to time, but no. (If you walk without rhythm, you won't attract the worm.)
It's true that alcohol does make you a better dancer. The trick is to put more of it into your audience than into yourself.
Dancing is excellent full body aerobic exercise. Going out for drinks and dancing is essentially a type of wellness program – therapy for the body and mind.
When I was younger, I often went out dancing with friends. Some of them even still speak to me.
A little extra junk in the trunk is an asset when performing certain dance moves... and an absolute necessity for others. Oakland booty!
Belly dancing is the distilled essence of feminine sensuality set to music.
It is impossible to maintain a sense of dignity while doing “The Chicken Dance.” After sufficient exposure to rum, however, it is impossible not to do “The Funky Chicken.” Cruise directors and beach-side resort employees know this and take full advantage.
Best dance scene in a movie: “Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion” (If you've seen it, you know of what I speak. If you haven't seen it, hie thee hence to Netflix!)
There are people on “Glee”** who have clearly been blessed with more (and more flexible) joints than me.
Royskopp, Shpongle, Hol Baumann, Jim Strider, Moby, Ott, Outersect: My current MP3 player lineup***.
Today's exercise: See Title
Next: A new Yummish saint!
*Because they aren't. They're watching that really hot girl wearing only a bra and hot pants dancing on the PA speaker. (Extra credit points if you've been that girl... or managed to get her phone number.)
**I “wants” my Glee ABBA tribute!
***OK, fine... I'll admit it: and ABBA (“Dancing Queen” in Spanish). I really can't explain it.
My position as “Worst Dancer Humanity Has Ever Known,” may be somewhat surprising, given that I started taking dance lessons when I was 3 years old. This had less to do with any real affinity for dancing on my part and more to do with ballet and tap lessons being de rigueur for little girls in the 1970s. As far as I was concerned, I got to wear a costume, stand on a stage and have a crowd of people stare at me. If I wasn't a particularly gifted performer, it never bothered me – a defect of personality that continues to this day. Upbeat. Downbeat. You'd think I'd accidentally bump into one of them from time to time, but no. (If you walk without rhythm, you won't attract the worm.)
It's true that alcohol does make you a better dancer. The trick is to put more of it into your audience than into yourself.
Dancing is excellent full body aerobic exercise. Going out for drinks and dancing is essentially a type of wellness program – therapy for the body and mind.
When I was younger, I often went out dancing with friends. Some of them even still speak to me. A little extra junk in the trunk is an asset when performing certain dance moves... and an absolute necessity for others. Oakland booty!
Belly dancing is the distilled essence of feminine sensuality set to music.
It is impossible to maintain a sense of dignity while doing “The Chicken Dance.” After sufficient exposure to rum, however, it is impossible not to do “The Funky Chicken.” Cruise directors and beach-side resort employees know this and take full advantage.
Best dance scene in a movie: “Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion” (If you've seen it, you know of what I speak. If you haven't seen it, hie thee hence to Netflix!)
There are people on “Glee”** who have clearly been blessed with more (and more flexible) joints than me.
Royskopp, Shpongle, Hol Baumann, Jim Strider, Moby, Ott, Outersect: My current MP3 player lineup***.
Today's exercise: See Title
Next: A new Yummish saint!
*Because they aren't. They're watching that really hot girl wearing only a bra and hot pants dancing on the PA speaker. (Extra credit points if you've been that girl... or managed to get her phone number.)
**I “wants” my Glee ABBA tribute!
***OK, fine... I'll admit it: and ABBA (“Dancing Queen” in Spanish). I really can't explain it.
