Whither dancing?

It took me an hour to get to work today. Usually it takes 12 minutes.

I'll just leave it at that, as I imagine every other person reading this had an equally bad transportation experience. Days like today make me miss the easy days of walking a block and hitting the rapid station. Then again, I've had about 1/10th as many "feeling yucky" days since I stopped riding public transportation every day, so it washes out, I suppose.

Anyway, I'm driving (read: crawling along at 4 miles per hour) and listening to some music. I've had the Tokyo Police Club "Elephant Shell" record playing for the last little while and I'm starting to get bored - as a whole, it is a little too Death Cab for me - but then track #9 (Your English is Good - see video below) comes on and I feel a little boogie in my soul. I start the traditional chair dancing that I am so good at, and then my mind starts to wander, as I start pondering the act of dancing. More specifically, whether I should ever do it.



I once read that dancing is the single most comprehensively healthy form of motion a human being can engage in - that it is a form of light exercise and is also good for the spirit. Who knows if that is true, but when have you ever watched Soul Train re-runs and seen someone look super pissed? Never. At least I haven't.

So, sure, people should dance. But should I? I'm not very good at it. That's putting it charitably. Heck, that's putting it so charitably it is really the same thing as telling a lie. None of you (I hope, for your own sakes) have ever seen the travesty. I kinda look like Bill Cosby suffering from vertigo and a broken leg combined with a retired lumberjack with rheumatoid arthiritis and a nervous skanker with delicate bone structure. And gout.

In other words, me dancing in public is doing a public disservice. And quite possible could be illegal, depending on how vague a given town's indecency ordinance is written. But it is fun. I was out dancing at some terrible tourist bar in New Orleans a few weeks ago and had the best time. At least until I got back to the hotel and I thought my knees were broken.

Anway, all this pondering of the infinite is making my head hurt. Fortunately, I'm having a good hair day - the best in recent memory, in fact. Unfortunately, it is a stocking cap day, so the good hair day will only last until the next time I go outside. Fortunately, I have to go to Lakewood for an appointment, which means lunch at Melt. And so it goes.