I am not a good dancer. I’m what certain experts like to refer to as “a bad dancer.”
Have you ever gone fishing and tried to stick a wiggly, little worm on a hook? Yes? Ok, now imagine that the worm is 6-foot-2, is having a seizure, dressed in a polyester leisure suit and is in the middle of a dance floor. That is almost exactly what I look like, except I’m really only about 5-10.
Just because I’m a terrible dancer, doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate good dancing when I see it. There are a few shows on TV that are great examples of really good dancing. One show is called “So You Think You Can Dance” and the other is named “Dancing With The Stars.” Each show has its ardent fanatics who think their show is the best.
A couple of the lesser-known shows are “Help! I’m a Celebrity and I’m Trapped on a Dance Contest Show” and “America’s Got The Biggest Dancing Idols.” To me, each show has its good points and its flaws, but more importantly, they reveal what a truly pathetic dancer I really am.
The thing about these TV shows is that they do all the normal dances, including the old stuff. Sure, they throw hip-hop in there, but they also have the ancient dances like the samba, the rumba and the bossa nova. I’ve even seen them do the waltz.
Do any of the producers of these shows go to night clubs? Nobody does the waltz anymore. It’s all bumping and grinding nowadays. I’m not proposing to drop the waltz, but they should really think about adding some of the newer dances, as well. They’d probably attract a lot more viewers if they did. Then again, I’m not recommending that they have Miley Cyrus start twerking every week, either.
The thing I like best about today’s new dance moves is the crazy names that they’re given. Actually, goofy names for dance moves started in the 1950s with the twist, the watusi, the mashed potato and the swim. The 1960s saw the Batman, the sprinkler and the lawn mower. Since then we’ve had the hustle, the electric slide, the running man and the cabbage patch. (Note to country music fans: I’m not including line dancing here, as that is an entire column unto itself.)
This decade has developed some very up-close-and-personal dance moves, and whether they’re done in back alleys or mosh pits, the names of the dances are great.
Now, some of the dances are very well-known, like the going-to-the-fridge-to-make-a-turkey-sandwich and the wiping-doggy-doo-doo-off-the-bottom-of-your-Birkenstocks, but there are some new dances out there that most of you may have never heard of before.
How many of you have shaken your booty to the don’t-taze-me-bro? Or the digging-in-the-couch-for-Laundromat-money? Or even the help-I’ve-fallen-and-I-can’t-get-up?
A few of these new dance steps sound way too intimidating to even try, such as the running-with-scissors, the I-ate-too-much-Mexican-food-and-need-to-use-the-bathroom-like-right-now and the brand new I’m-choking-on-a-crouton-and-need-the-Heimlich-maneuver.
Some of these new dances are a lot more difficult than they sound. There’s a dance out there now called the I’m-a-little-teapot-short-and-stout that involves sticking one of your arms out, as if it is a teapot spout, and then bending over at your waist, pretending that you are pouring tea out of your spout. I tried it one night and wound up twisting my ankle and pulling my hamstring.
After three additional charley horses, I called it a night and limped to my car.
I don’t understand a few of the newer dance moves, like the breast-feeding-the-parakeet. I’m not even sure what that is really implying. Then there’s the water-boarding-the-sea-monkey and the baby-goat-bungee-jump. Really, what is that all about?
My two favorite moves are the where-the-heck-did-I-put-my-dang-car-keys and the killer-see-attack-scramble. I’m really good at both of them, but if you see me on the dance floor, you better watch out, because I really know how to cut a rug. Sometimes, that can be taken literally . . . .
Reach C.W. Plunkett at firstname.lastname@example.org.