It really is amazing what comes to mind when listening to music; especially older music that conjures years long ago in your life.
As I was working earlier in the week, I did so with my iPhone music application in full shuffle mode. One minute Eminem switched on, and the next minute Lady Gaga. That experience really is both religious and narcotic in nature. My mind did an energetic two-step, leaving me with the urge to flash faux gang signs, followed by the desire to go dance with drag queens moments later. That’s epic 
It was late in the afternoon that my shuffle mode led me to Lionel Richie. Yes, I realize this is not cool, or hip, and probably dates me. But, so be it. I love me some Lionel. He shuffled into my ear buds with an old favorite; Stuck on You.
Within the flash of a lyric, my mind instantly transported me back to a middle school dance. There I stood, in the middle of the gym; slow dancing with a boy I probably liked but never really talked to very much. There I stood, with my arms straight out in front of me, resting on his shoulders. And his hands rested gently on my hips.
What I remember most about our school dances was the anticipation. I was excited days before the dance, and remember fidgeting all day long on dance days. The event felt huge, and exciting, and in the world of a middle school girl, it felt magical.
And as a look back, it actually was. To think that standing around a gym, listening to music, and every once and a while slow dancing awkwardly with a mostly stranger created such anticipation; that is magic.
That is youth.
Youth is magic.
GROW UP TO BE A KID
Now that I think of it, I suggest school dances as the prescription to adult funk. And by funk, I don’t mean awkward and ugly white people dancing to disco music. I mean the “adult who has lost their youthful magic” funk.
You know what I’m talking about.
The inability to slightly groove in the mall when a kick-ass song comes on.
The inability to express excitement, not at mundane things, but at actual events most people would die to take part in.
The inability to look out the window at the horizon and browse for something to jump into.
The inability to eat something that tastes or smells horrifically bad, and laugh so hard that you want to do it all again. And you do…
The adult funk consists of loss of excitement or anticipation for the barrage of things considered mundane. In the end, the mundane might actually be exquisite.
If it was up to me, we would all partake in school dances; whether 10 or 80 years old. And though the thought of an old “dirty-bird man” loose in a gymnasium might creep me out, all dances would be age appropriate; young bucks with young bucks, and seasoned vets paired up.
We should all experience, time and time again, the excitement of waking up on a Friday morning with excitement over the dance that night. And, waking up the next morning, glowing in the after math of “dancing” to Toto or Britney.
I think the absence of school dances is what leads so many young women to focus so much on that prized wedding day. Yes, I’m sure people want to be married, but I often think the anticipation of something exciting and magical trumps everything else. The resolution to this: more dances!
Ren McCormack said it best in a true gem of my generation, Footloose, when me argued “….and there is a time to dance…” Amen, brother, amen!
The add on to Ren’s famously heart felt plea is that there isn’t just one time in our lives, our youth, to dance. There is always a time to dance. And anytime, everyday, is another promising opportunity to experience something magical.
Busta move, peeps, busta move…
