Sunday, February 28, 2010
I Hope You Dance Dance
Whenever I see one of those greeting cards that encourages me to "dance like no one's watching," I know what they mean is "dance only if no one's watching." Because when I told my friends at work recently that sometimes I partake in a round of Dance Dance Revolution over my lunch hour, they didn't seem inspired to live life a little more fully, like Lee Ann Womack. The only thing they were moved to do was laugh and mock.
At first I thought it probably had something to do with the fact that I fell, publicly, in front of my office a few weeks ago, and they are doubting my grace and ability to keep up with the Japanese animation. In my defense, there was snow on the ground, and the line between parking lot and sidewalk was more than blurred; it was buried. But then I heard them reference their 12-year-old nephews and their seven-year-old daughters as they laughed, and that's when I realized it wasn't my dancing ability they were questioning; it was the fact I was even attempting such a thing at my age.
But rather than feel ashamed, I felt liberated. What most people would run from in fear has always attracted me, in some weird way. I certainly hope I'm not saying this to explain away clubbing when I'm in my 50s, but on some level, not acting your age is healthy for the soul. Why is it cute when an 85-year-old takes a line dancing class, but ridiculous when a 35-year-old dances to a video game? It's probably why I'm in love with Jim Carrey; he certainly isn't the epitomy of a 48-year-old man. And he doesn't apologize for it.
I'm not going to apologize for it, either. Instead, I will say you're welcome--I already knew I was your kids' favorite baby-sitter, but it's always nice to hear.