Dance Before It's Too Late

We were on the way home from the doctor in Mt Vernon. The trip home has almost an hour of uninspiring landscape. Less enlightened people may say the trip is full of barely tolerable scenery, depending on the season and how many suicidal deer are along the route. The radio was in the throes of another nauseating political episode, so we turned from Fox News to “Old People Songs” on XM channel 1960-something. The song “Why Don’t We Just Dance” by someone I never heard of came on the radio. I thought “Why not, indeed.” I pulled over and we got out of the Jeep at the intersection of Highway 142 and County Road Dirt. We danced. For 2 old people on a unpaved road littered with Huck’s cups and desiccated raccoons, I think we danced pretty darned well. We danced well enough that no Geezers were hurt in the production of dancing. I’m confident a few motorists were sure we’d lost our minds, and they’re probably right. Thankfully nobody called the Sheriff or the Geriatric Bingo Bus to take us to “The Home”. When it’s all said and done, it was fun. It was the most fun I’ve had since I received my first social security check. It was almost as fun as when there was pie at the free ham and bean dinner in town, but that’s another story.

We told a few people about our breech of common decency. Reviews are mixed. Some of the females we know think it’s sweet but they’re uneasy that we danced on a county road. The guys don’t care much. Our adult children are calling somebody in authority. Mostly, people think it’s “troubling” because it’s unusual behavior. Is this an indication of a problem?

A few years ago we took a ballroom dance class through the junior college. It was remarkably fun after I gave up on appearing to be dignified. It’s amazing what you can enjoy when you embrace your geeky side.

Somewhat late in the “situation” I wondered what our Baptist Church has to say about us dancing. I remember reading in the old records from a local church that one of my ancestors was “removed” from the congregation for dancing. There were no other details so I don’t know if maybe he was even more uncoordinated than I am. I hope he wasn’t a male exotic dancer, because my identity couldn’t absorb that.

Regardless, the church is central to our lives. In our church there’s a large framed print titled “Church Covenant”. A covenant is an agreement or a contract. Biblically, a covenant is an agreement between God and His people. Anyway, being a Nerd 1st Class, I (of course) have a photograph of our Covenant on my phone. I read it and it says a lot of things. Mostly it has statements of intent for the church to further the kingdom. There is no ban on dancing, even bad dancing, so as far as our church is concerned we’re good.

Carrying on as a Nerd, I researched the ramifications of dancing on the internet. I consulted the irrefutable “Psychology Today” because they know stuff and website access is free. If we eliminate the big words I don’t understand, it comes down to “dance is good”. Through scientific tests that I can’t even pronounce, it’s been determined that dance requires the brain to control about 600 muscles. The activity is good for your muscles, your heart, and your balance.

Studies on music and movement show the brains of two people dancing tune into the same frequency and their brain waves synchronize. In my mind my wife and I were more in sync while dancing than when we’ve done anything else together, except for during dessert time. For that few minutes we were truly one flesh.

With the exception of where we chose to get our groove on, I can’t find a reason to not dance. It appears as long as we’re not lascivious, the church doesn’t have anything to say about it. The physical benefits and the psychological upside is a good reason to dance. What more do we need?

Well, there’s one more thing. Saturday night we were leaving our village festival when the singer of the band asked for people to come up and dance to a slow, romantic tune. We tossed our lemon shake-up cups and the bones of the funnel cake into the trash can and danced. When we made a turn without injury I saw our grandson. His face was bright red and it looked like he was going to die if we didn’t stop. We continued until his embarrassment completely consumed him. As we walked to the car he yelled, “I can’t believe you did that. You embarrassed me in front of the whole town. My life here is over.” What a gift he gave us. His agony is the best reason to dance, and dance often, and dance in full view of everyone. His agony is our joy. He can even complain to our adult children so they can bond over our misdeeds.

I hope we dance.

Fini.

You can contact Charlie via email at geezer.rocker@gmail.com or by mail at PO Box 378, Norris City, Il 62869. You should buy his books “Tales From Geezer Rock” and Geezer Rock Daily Demotivational” on Amazon.com because Daddy needs a new pair of shoes. Dancing shoes.