This morning after almost no sleep thanks to 2 very sick kittens that were plopped in my lap at 11pm last night, I opened an email from my most beloved friend in NY and found this video. Apparently, this is the first dance he ever learned to do. I love it when he tells me stuff like this so couldn’t wait to watch. And wow. You have got to love a dance instruction song that has a slow groove and swing to it; the possibilities are endless (and I figured at least a little sexy).
Um, but no. I was wrong. There is no sauntering, wiggling, shaking or gliding. And you don’t even get to sink into an arm slipped around your waist. (What a rip off!) In order to do The Stroll, you should be on the brink of complete and utter despair. Don’t look at your partner. Don’t you dare feel an ounce of bliss. Emotional and physical distance is key. If you mistakenly make eye contact, scowl at yourself for the error and make sure your partner meets your eyes with a frown. You can mix it up too. The third couple demonstrates that turns are allowed. That is, as long as they aren’t fun turns. If you can spin joylessly in the winter of your discontent, then choose a direction and go for it. And when you reach the end of the line, before parting ways, do not acknowledge your companion. It’s unnecessary. Words are superfluous. You already share a deep mutual understanding of what just happened. You may never see each other again, but you will still house a deep bond until the day you die. Such memories are often the result of humans sharing moments of great tragedy…and be careful, dancing shoes might just give you PTSD.