The Joy of Disco. I saw this documentary posted on another blog here. It’s about, as the title suggests, The Joy of Disco. As interesting as it was, it got me thinking. Why do we dance? Why do people choose to ‘bust’ a move on the dance floor?
I guess there are a few reasons. It could be about a feeling of freedom and expression. Is it to fulfill some animal desires, to get a mate? Much like a bird-of-paradise, showing off its ritual dance moves, to lure a potential partner in? This is more likely. Dance. A weapon in our arsenal to capture a mate. Not that people need this weapon in their armory. Everyone has different artillery of conquest, I’m just saying Dance could be one of them. What if you have a mate? Do we dance to keep them?
What about people that can’t dance? I wouldn’t think they are stigmatised or ridiculed totally for having two left feet. In fact, if they know they can’t dance they usually end up better off from the observers point of view. The humorous side to their dance moves can attract suitors regardless.
I’m sure, the bumps and grinds thrown out by your uncle at a family wedding were his best moves in his youth but not now. People laugh. Is he looking for a partner or out to impress an existing one? That Macarena, come Time Warp, come Fox Trot, knows how to get peoples attentions. Richie kinda has two left feet but has an established formula for ripping up the rug. They are easy, simple gyrations that can look foolish but I actually can’t help but see them as cute and they make me laugh. I’m not alone on that one either. All I need do is, play Spanish Train on the iPod and he’s swinging to his own rhythm and getting down to the floor (literally).
I know! It’s not the typical song you’d hear for someone to dance to.
When I was a young whipper snapper, I’d be itching to get up first on the dance floor. I look back now and wonder did people talk about me or ridicule me behind my back. Back then I didn’t care and I’m sure there were a few on the sidelines but the majority admired that I had the courage to get up first. This fuelled my desire and confidence more. It gave me a social advantage, in that my peers viewed me as more confident. It gave them an excuse to start dancing too. Maybe to help attract a partner for themselves!
Now?! That has changed completely. It’s an utter turn around. I cringe after the night out that I decided to dance at all. Not to mention be the first up on the floor. I’d regret it and feel I shouldn’t have been dancing. I even tried that new move that the kids are doing today. Oh crap, I’m the uncle at the wedding. Now you get why I’m cringing.
Lets take this apart a bit and forget about the cringing. Lets see what the catalysts were. Alcohol – check! Good company – check! Encouragement – check! Support from others – Check! I guess it ultimately it comes down to one thing. Enjoyment! I enjoyed it. Why should I have feelings of regret? I was John Travolta. Or I hope I was. I’m going to make the first step (pun intended) to dance if I feel like dancing. No regrets. In fact, I danced with my Dyson yesterday evening. The music was playing loudly, so that I could hear it over the ‘aircraft taking off’, cyclonic mechanisms of the vacuum cleaner. There was no one else there, mind you. Putting this here will give Richie the license to use it against me and ensure I commit to this. This might be a mistake.
I just found this article. http://www.guardian.co.uk/education/2009/dec/15/research-why-people-dance Looks like I’m half right.
Paddy Clifford 