Notes from a Walkman Junkie: Private Dance Parties
I have private dance parties. So private, in fact, that I am the only one present... aside from my pet bunny, should he be available. In my mind I fancy these parties to somewhat resemble this.
What they actually entail is me dancing alone in my apartment to my musical selection for the evening. Dancing has always been one of my greatest loves. There is nary a photograph of me as a child in which I am not captured in some sort of 'bust a move' pose, often including finger pointing (Saturday Night Fever style) and making the 'scrunchy' face.
My love of dance was not pursued in any sort of formal capacity aside from a couple of years spent taking ballet lessons as a child. What I truly wanted to learn was how to tap dance. My mother refused to let me take tap lessons claiming it was, in a word, "tacky." This was pretty unfair on my mother's part, but I forgave her. I even took the high road years later by not ridiculing her latest obsession with ballroom dance, ahem. She had started to take lessons from her now-husband, and they even began to film instructional videos together(the mocking potential here is palpable).
One night they were filming in the makeshift dance studio in our house. I was hanging out with some friends outside and desperately needed to use the restroom, which involved passing through the room where they were filming. Not wanting to disturb them, I decided to just slowly slide behind them against the wall. In my opinion, it was their best video. Nice couple dancing... oblivious to the strange girl sliding sneakily against the wall behind them.
Though I settled for ballet lessons, I never let go of my longing to learn the art of tap. Finally, I was given the chance to sample a taste of it in college when I took a tap class to satisfy a physical education credit. I really gave it my all, spending countless hours practicing the buffalo shuffle on my tiny linoleum kitchen floor (quite a visual). Oddly enough, this little class was all it took for me to be at peace with my tap cravings once and for all. Yeah, no thanks....I'm good.
As to be expected, not all of my dance-related memories are positive ones. On my twenty-first birthday I performed a now-legendary pole dance in a bar. Apparently this dance was memorable enough for fellow bar patrons to recognize me and refer to me as, 'pole dance girl' for several months following that fateful evening. Not a proud night for me. I showed my ass to a gaggle of strangers, both literally and figuratively.
Despite the dances I would very much like to forget, I still love dancing to good music. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club is an alternative rock band from San Francisco. They blend garage rock, blues, folk revival, and neo-psychedelia. BRMC was recommended to me by a good friend and have made my private dance parties even more kick-ass, if you can possibly imagine.