It's been awhile since the old curmudgeon had a few words with you folks out there in dance land. Sorry for the delay - I've been busy chasing kids off my lawn with a cane when I'm not down at the corner grocery complaining about the price of onions these days. It's the latter that has me sitting down to type a missive tonight - kids, youngsters, rapscallions.
Yesterday evening I had a perfectly respectable evening planned. I toddled down to the local ballroom to join up with my fellow club members for their 7th anniversary dinner and dance. In my heart I was looking forward to a dandy evening - mangling some potatoes and a slice of passable roast before settling in for a couple of hours on the dance floor. It's the predictable things in life that keep me sane - they are the anchor that moors me in the safe harbor of my life (to get poetic about it).
Things were swell and I was about to head to the buffet for a slice of cake when the club DJ announced that we had 'visitors' attending the function that evening. Don't get me wrong - I don't have anything against out-of-towners coming to any dance, club or otherwise. It's fine for a few relatives in from Cleveland to occupy a table and watch the goings on…maybe even join in for a Foxtrot or Shag. Really, it's great…but isn't an anniversary supposed to be for the people anniversarizing not for spectators? I mean, what if your significant other asked to invite a cousin to come along to your anniversary dinner? Or maybe share your birthday for the sake of expedience? Doesn't seem right, does it? So maybe that's why I got a feeling of foreboding when I heard that announcement. I wouldn't say I wanted to yell 'throw the bums out' but I have to admit somewhere deep in the rusty workings of my soul I kinda thought it.
Still the evening went forward and the DJ struck up the usual first swing tune - like I said these dances are almost rituals, there are club members who've been attending far longer than I have and I suspect they could name the tunes that will be played any night in order. Any deviation from the pre-arranged order must be submitted in writing weeks in advance and put before a secret committee - I hear there are funny hats and secret handshakes but I'm not sure and if I were I wouldn't be allowed to say. I sit back and I look across the floor and the first sight I encounter is that of the visitors…dancing.
Okay, dancing is a broad category and maybe in east armpit wherever these people hale from they don't require things like…being on the beat…but I still assume that they'd have some basic manners. It all goes back to the fact that people don't seem to know the difference between social dancing and antisocial dancing. So let me lay it down for you.
In social dancing you're aware of where you are on the floor most, if not all, of the time. You're also aware of what's going on around you…you know where the slow people are, where the fast people are, and in general you try to make it pleasant for everyone and, thereby, yourself. While in antisocial dancing you just worry about showing off - hey, everyone else can look out for themselves 'cause it's all about you - right?
In social dancing you know that the floor is divided into roughly three sections: outer orbit for those who conflate traveling dances with track events, inner orbit for everyone else, and middle for beginners and people who aren't doing traveling dances. In antisocial dancing the whole floor is nothing but the fast lane and if you're in the fast lane well, you might as well be playing on the freeway.
In social dancing you make sure you don't dance into the way of other dancers if you can help it. If you make a mistake an cross someone up, you excuse yourself politely and get out of their way as best you can. In antisocial dancing, hey this is Mad Max land and if you can't defend your slice of hardwood then it ought to be taken from you by force.
In social dancing you excuse yourself when you bump into someone - even a simple 'sorry' will suffice, after all we all goof once in awhile. In antisocial dancing the other buffoons on the floor are luck you don't knock them out cold when you run into them…after all, dance is a contact sport.
So you probably got my gist - I didn't so much like these folks. I will say they spurred me on to add to the Blue Suede Souls lexicon, though. The new definition is as follows (and will be posted appropriately):
Skids (n): Teen aged dancers who, either engrossed in the opposite sex or in their perceived ability to dance, blatantly take up more than their share of the floor, present a hazard to other dancers, and generally detract from the enjoyability of an evening dancing. We'll stay on the far end of the dance floor, as far away from the skids as possible.
Yesterday evening I had a perfectly respectable evening planned. I toddled down to the local ballroom to join up with my fellow club members for their 7th anniversary dinner and dance. In my heart I was looking forward to a dandy evening - mangling some potatoes and a slice of passable roast before settling in for a couple of hours on the dance floor. It's the predictable things in life that keep me sane - they are the anchor that moors me in the safe harbor of my life (to get poetic about it).
Things were swell and I was about to head to the buffet for a slice of cake when the club DJ announced that we had 'visitors' attending the function that evening. Don't get me wrong - I don't have anything against out-of-towners coming to any dance, club or otherwise. It's fine for a few relatives in from Cleveland to occupy a table and watch the goings on…maybe even join in for a Foxtrot or Shag. Really, it's great…but isn't an anniversary supposed to be for the people anniversarizing not for spectators? I mean, what if your significant other asked to invite a cousin to come along to your anniversary dinner? Or maybe share your birthday for the sake of expedience? Doesn't seem right, does it? So maybe that's why I got a feeling of foreboding when I heard that announcement. I wouldn't say I wanted to yell 'throw the bums out' but I have to admit somewhere deep in the rusty workings of my soul I kinda thought it.
Still the evening went forward and the DJ struck up the usual first swing tune - like I said these dances are almost rituals, there are club members who've been attending far longer than I have and I suspect they could name the tunes that will be played any night in order. Any deviation from the pre-arranged order must be submitted in writing weeks in advance and put before a secret committee - I hear there are funny hats and secret handshakes but I'm not sure and if I were I wouldn't be allowed to say. I sit back and I look across the floor and the first sight I encounter is that of the visitors…dancing.
Okay, dancing is a broad category and maybe in east armpit wherever these people hale from they don't require things like…being on the beat…but I still assume that they'd have some basic manners. It all goes back to the fact that people don't seem to know the difference between social dancing and antisocial dancing. So let me lay it down for you.
In social dancing you're aware of where you are on the floor most, if not all, of the time. You're also aware of what's going on around you…you know where the slow people are, where the fast people are, and in general you try to make it pleasant for everyone and, thereby, yourself. While in antisocial dancing you just worry about showing off - hey, everyone else can look out for themselves 'cause it's all about you - right?
In social dancing you know that the floor is divided into roughly three sections: outer orbit for those who conflate traveling dances with track events, inner orbit for everyone else, and middle for beginners and people who aren't doing traveling dances. In antisocial dancing the whole floor is nothing but the fast lane and if you're in the fast lane well, you might as well be playing on the freeway.
In social dancing you make sure you don't dance into the way of other dancers if you can help it. If you make a mistake an cross someone up, you excuse yourself politely and get out of their way as best you can. In antisocial dancing, hey this is Mad Max land and if you can't defend your slice of hardwood then it ought to be taken from you by force.
In social dancing you excuse yourself when you bump into someone - even a simple 'sorry' will suffice, after all we all goof once in awhile. In antisocial dancing the other buffoons on the floor are luck you don't knock them out cold when you run into them…after all, dance is a contact sport.
So you probably got my gist - I didn't so much like these folks. I will say they spurred me on to add to the Blue Suede Souls lexicon, though. The new definition is as follows (and will be posted appropriately):
Skids (n): Teen aged dancers who, either engrossed in the opposite sex or in their perceived ability to dance, blatantly take up more than their share of the floor, present a hazard to other dancers, and generally detract from the enjoyability of an evening dancing. We'll stay on the far end of the dance floor, as far away from the skids as possible.
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