I’ve always wanted to be a dancer.
Not ballet. Not jazz. Just one of those in the middle of the crowd, moving with the music, having a big ol’ blast dancers.
Like the audition in All That Jazz with George Benson singing “On Broadway”.
Or Ray Charles talkin’ ’bout shaking tail feathers in Blues Brothers.
Dancing Queen, anyone?
And even shakin’ it up, baby, with Mr. Ferris Bueller.
Heck, even Zumba gets me going in a good line dance. So I took an East Coast Swing class for the last two months.
And loved it. Now I have Jitter Bug under my belt as well.
Tonight I signed up for Bachata because I just thought the word sounded cool.
Good Lord, this may call for a replacement hip.
But I’m doing it because I’m 50, but not dead.
Like the guy in swing class said, “You’ve got more wiggles than a can of worms.”
Thanks? I think that was praise. I’m not sure. I’ve never been compared to worms before. So I’ll move, shake, rattle, and hum my way through some sort of 8 week commitment and have a blast while I’m at it.
Who knows… maybe some other crazies will be in the class with me and I’ll make some dancing friends.
We can all throw out our backs together.