June 15th, 2004
When we were kids, my mom worked odd shifts as a nurse, so at times she had to leave us with a babysitter. Although over the years we cycled through quite a few of them, my absolute favorite was a black family with kids our age. They were really amazing, nice people - and so much fun.
The dad called my little brother “my little white blood” and there was a lot of “gimme five” going on, seeing as this was the late seventies, or early eighties. I look back on those days and find that I really learned a lot from that family. Having the opportunity to be immersed in their unique culture helped me appreciate some things that maybe I wouldn’t have otherwise.
First off, they instilled in me an irrepressible love for FUNK music. George Clinton, Parliament Funkadelic, The Gap Band, Rick James, Cameo, Sly & The Family Stone, Bootsy Collins, Earth Wind & Fire, James Brown, Isaac Hayes, Kool & the Gang, The Average White Band, Curtis Mayfield, The Ohio Players, The Commodores, Tower of Power, War. There’s nothing else like it.
What went hand in hand with the music, and turned out to be of even greater benefit, was learning how to dance. My brother and I may have walked into their home that first day as stiff little white kids, but we sure as hell didn’t leave that way. No matter what was going on in their home, there was music playing, and if you weren’t grooving along they figured something was wrong with you - and they were right. If you can sit still with funk playing, there most certainly is something wrong with you.
Dancing is beyond important - it’s vital. Yet somehow mainstream American culture never really embraced its value. I blame those damned Puritans. Most of us crackers have no idea what it’s like to really get down and boogie. I’d even settle for a good hoedown, with fiddlers and a guy blowing into a jug. I’ve got nothing against square dancing, but you don’t even see that going on these days. What the hell is wrong with us?
Throughout history, dance has been an important method of expression. Think for a moment about the emphasis that other cultures, both modern and primitive, have placed on this art form. Even king David, a man after God’s own heart - and mine, danced up the steps of the newly-built temple. The bible makes over twenty-five references to dancing, yet fundamentalists still act like it’s wrong.
Can somebody tell me how dancing became a chick thing? My favorite comedian, Dane Cook, expounds on this phenomenon, noting that the only reason guys go to clubs is because that’s where the ladies are. You’ll find the girls out on the dance floor, shaking it in a big circle, with their shoes and handbags piled in the middle. Why do guys think dancing nullifies their sex appeal? Take a lesson: Fred Astaire was no looker, but women swooned when he hit the dance floor.
After a rough week at the office, I often try to think of what would best release the accumulated stress - and the only thing that I know beyond the shadow of a doubt will be completely 100% beyond effective is a night of dancing. Yet finding other people who want to go out with me is nearly impossible. Am I the only one who knows about this magic cure? I guess so. Well, there’s always the club kids… I just don’t know any of them.
I love even the idea of a dark, steamy, packed club, with music blaring so loud that all you can do is immerse yourself in the beat and get lost in the crowd on the dance floor. Like in music videos where they show sexy, scantily-clad people in slow motion, skin glistening, getting their grove on. That’s where I want to be. But I’m thirty years old, and somehow that makes me too old for that kind of activity.
INSERT DEEP SIGH HERE
But what I do in the privacy of my own home is my business, so I close the door in my bedroom and dance my ass off - literally, it’s aerobic, you know. Sure, it’s not the same as a club, and I don’t do it nearly as often as my stress level demands, but for now it’s all I’ve got… And as long as I’m still dancing, who cares.
Entry Filed under: Time Travel
