Dancing Alone

If you’re throwing a party and you need someone to get the dancing started, call me. If you’re throwing a party and you’re concerned you might be labeled crazy by association, then don’t reach out, because damnit, I dance. I dance like no one’s watching. Always on beat, yet blissfully unaware of what my appendages are up to. It’s not cool, it’s not sexy,

And I don’t care.

I have a handful of sweet moves I carry with me just waiting to be unveiled. My living room sees some of them, my children see most of them, but when you give me some music, lighting, an empty canvas of a floor waiting to be colored with crazy, then watch out, because those moves will be let loose on any unsuspecting great Aunt Ethyl.

And I mean that. I don’t discriminate.

If you’re unfortunate enough to be in my line of sight when ‘Brick House’ comes on, then I’m sorry. It’d be in your best interest to just not fight my invisible lasso throw. Shhhh. Dont struggle. Submit. You’ll be glad you did.

Music. Music and movement.

What’s the last thing to leave the memory in patients battling alzheimers?

Music.

How did David praise God?

Song and dance.

More specifically, dancing naked through city streets. Naked. In public. Okay, you win, David. I mean that’s not to say if conditions were perfect that I wouldn’t do the same, but we have laws against that now. Really though, who knows? Isolation makes people do crazy things. Stay tuned.

We all have it in us to feel and to move accordingly. That’s all dancing is. Just letting the body emote. However, it takes many years of training at weddings, birthday parties, funeral wakes (it’s happened) and dive bars to achieve my level of mastery.

I can’t take all the credit. I wouldnt be the dancer I am today without the amazing team of coaches who have gone before me…

My mother- She taught me the art of peer pressure on the dance floor.

My father- He’s usually dropping the beats we’re gettin’ down to, but when he’s not behind his drum set you’d think he was a shorter, Mexican James Brown.

My cousin Tricia- The fiery red head that doesn’t. Give. A. Damn.

Cousin Heather- Perfect little Heather with her blonde Bob has been known to get up on tables. EVERY. TIME.

Whitney- The only time she’s quiet is when her hips are doing the talking. Mmmmmm.

My sisters- The V’s, my hippie arms are theirs.

But of all of these truly inspirational lords of the dance, none have been so influential as my black Auntie Helen. To be clear, she insists I call her that so as to not be confused with my white Auntie Helen. As a kid, when she’d call the house (yes, on a landline) she’d always greet me with,

“Honey, is your mama home? Ok, baby, go get her and tell her it’s your Auntie Helen on the phone. Your Ba-lack Auntie Helen.”

Yes, it was this angel that introduced me to a favorite back pocket move of mine…

The Four Corners

At the tender age of 15, Auntie Helen decided I was mature enough to harness the discipline needed to be entrusted with such a skill. I could only compare its effectiveness to the ancient martial arts as represented by Jean Claude Van Damme in the movie Bloodsport. Each movement was controlled, minimal. The feet…planted, and yet the power it wielded was greater than the combined efforts of Britney, Beiber, Lance Bass and the like. We all cried.

The four corners, simple yet a thing of beauty. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.

Sadly, these days, there are no wedding receptions or concerts at which to exercise my talents. In fact, there are no gatherings of any kind. The bars and music venues are closed and these feet of mine are destined to dance alone until further notice.

But, there is still music! And where there is music, there is movement. So crank it. Whatever your fancy, whatever your style, genre, mood. Play it loud, push the coffee table against the wall, close the shades (or don’t) take off your pants (because this is your castle) and own your stage.

And if you happen to be driving by on your way to the grocery store and you see a women outside flailing irratically. Dont call for help. I’m fine. Just making the most of a sunny porch and social distancing. Feel free to wave or honk, but don’t stop or I may just be forced to throw an invisible fishing line your way and reel you in, and the CDC says that’s not good for either of us right now. Or is it?