I was driving around last night and heard Stairway to Heaven on the radio. I was transported back to my Catholic grammar school dances.
This song was both loved and feared by me.
Loved because if I liked a boy, I could dance a slow dance for a long long time, rocking back and forth since that's all we knew. Not too close of course, though at the time I wasn't sure why - I didn't understand penises (penii?) or sex. Maybe it was the nuns watching on the sidelines, ready to beat us with their rulers if we got too close.
Hated because at the end of the song, all of a sudden there's a really fast part, so I had to separate from the boy and flail around and not look too stupid, because then for a brief time at the very end there's a slow part again, and I wanted to be sure I could get back into the slow dance mode and not be walked away from because of my flailing. I think I managed to get back into the boy's arms, probably because they didn't want to look stupid either.
At the same school we had father/daughter dances. Or at least one that I can remember. My dad wooed my mom by dancing. He was an excellent dancer. It was so intimidating because I wanted to follow perfectly, but of course messed up occasionally. Which I'm sure didn't bother him, since he was 1) dancing again 2) dancing with his youngest daughter. I think that was the only time I danced with him, since when I was married he was already dead. But I still remember that one dance.
I wish more men danced well. It's a beautiful thing.
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13 comments:
Stairway to Heaven isn't really a dance song. It's sort of a sit-in-your-room-and-smoke-up-(or not smoke up if you are like me and are too nerdy to do that kind of thing)-song. It's one of my favorites, which is why it is on my iPod thingy, although I only use my iPod thingy when I work out, and for the above reason, it is a horrid song to work out to.
I love the anecdote about your dad.
I take Scottish country dance classes from time to time. It's not a very useful skill out on the dance floor in the real world, but it does give me the opportunity to wear a kilt.
I like the story about your dad too.
Suzanne, I agree. You obviously need to smoke up when you're exercising and all will be ok... I like the book promotion strategy!
Squirrel, why am I not surprised? And where you live, what's stopping you from wearing a kilt whenever you want?
Hmm... dad is a popular guy. He led with a very light touch... it was fascinating to me at the time.
What a beautiful memory! I still dance when the opportunity arises. It doesn't arise often.
I dance every weekend at least one day. I always live by the whole it doesn't matter how well you dance just as long as you get out there and move.
Great story about your dad. :)
Oh, the thought has occurred. But then I'd become "that guy who wears a kilt everywhere." Not sure I need that in my life. I try to keep a low(ish) profile these days.
Monty, I'd love to dance more.
Susan, maybe with you? :-)
Squirrel, so, storing nuts for the winter?
As you probably already know, I dance around like a total idiot every chance I get. But it's not the real ballroom type of dancing. It's mostly dorking around.
I used to like Stairway to Heaven, but it's so overplayed, I can barely listen to it. That and Sweet Home Alabama.
Well, let me clarify that I was afraid to make a fool of myself back then. Now I don't mind.
yeah, I usually can't listen to it either.
Not sure if you want this or not, but here is a Coverville completely dedicated to you and your blog post.
http://www.coverville.com/archives/2008/09/coverville_509.html
Cool MRT! thanks!
Did you know there's a bluegrass version of The Wall?
I simply can't imagine dancing with my father, but you make it sound lovely.
Puss
I have that CD of the bluegrass version of the Wall by Luther Wrong and the Rights. It's pretty funny.
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