Generally speaking, I don’t usually dance. Well, not the “in between” ones. You can easily catch me moving with the crowd, my ribs pressed up against the stage. But you won’t find me dancing to the latest chart topper at The Roxy. That is pretty much a given. But way over on the other end of the spectrum from crowd surfing is my favourite dance of all: the slow dance.
Last night, for the first time in a long time, a friend of mine and I slow danced to few Rat Pack tunes. I was in heaven. My partner and I are just good friends, but anytime you take a woman’s hand and feel her head against your chest, there’s a warmth to it that can’t be denied. Even when we decided whether we dare dip, we do, and it goes completely wrong, we’re both grinning like idiots and laughing. I can twirl a girl and get her back to me in one piece, but that is truly about it for any “moves” I have. I imagine many of you are like me in that regard. Be that as it may, as soon as you can, throw some on Deano, grab a friend, and cut a rug. Do it in the kitchen. Do it on the street. Just do it. It just may remind of something you haven’t felt in a while. I know I felt it again.