I'm an armchair dancer. I love to watch dance because it inspires me. I have been embarrassed to tell anyone until now. I have no idea why. Perhaps because my best friend was teased by my boyfriend when she tap danced in her softball uniform to "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" in our 7th grade talent show. I just kept quiet. Deep down inside I wanted to do what she was doing, but I was too much of a tomboy to admit it.
Little did I know that seeing her dance that day planted a seed. In 8th grade I went to Disneyland with my school's singing class. I danced in leotard with a friend to "Jingle-bell Rock" and "A Chorus Line". I seriously have no idea what made me do that. I mean, we auditioned, choreographed the dance, made costumes and everything! It was soooooo out of character for me. I dressed up like an elf for Christ sake!
I watched my best friend dance again in college and she blew me away. She performed in a Brazilian Maculele routine and was the lead in a tap routine where she was dressed up in a Zoot Suit. I was so proud of her. Watching her made me cry.
I remember showing up at my college the next week and timidly climbing the stairs above the locker room to the 2nd floor where the dance classes were held. I stood in the hallway and looked into each class, hoping to hell that someone would just grab my arm and pull me into the room. I guess I expected some kind of "Fame" episode to unfold in front of me. Maybe Debbie Allen would walk over, scare the crap out of me, and insist that I take her class; or a group of students would swoop in with jazz hands and carry me onto the wood dance floor. The theme song would play "remembah, remembah, Fame!" Sigh, this obviously never happened.
So here I am, 20 years later, out of shape and wishing I was young enough to try dance. At least this is the attitude I have had for a while now. But I see that our local community college has a few dance classes; tap, jazz, modern. I think I will try beginning tap next semester. What the hell. At 39, it will be all I can do to show up, but I have to try. I will regret for it the rest of my life if I don't.
If I actually take on this goal you will have to indulge me and my journal-like entries about the experience. It will be a big deal for me. On par with going to a class reunion and telling the class bully to go eff himself; totally empowering.
We'll see where this takes me.
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