For Fun, Just Follow these Simple Steps

So you think you can dance?

That was the question I asked myself last week when I agreed to attend a dance night hosted by my church. 

Dance has become very popular recently, what with television programs like “Dance Moms”, “Dancing with the Stars” and “So You Think You Can Dance”.  Millions of viewers tune in each week to watch celebrities like Apollo Ono and Kirstie Alley strut their stuff. The classic film “Footloose” was recently remade with DWTS’s own Julianne Hough. In that film, an entire town prohibits dancing of any kind, at the urging of the local church.

My church, however, is the antithesis of the one in the movie. On two occasions our fellowship ministry team organized an evening of dance, bringing in a husband and wife team of instructors to demonstrate a series of dance moves. On my way out of church, I was persuaded to sign up, and returned home to tell my husband we were committed to an evening of dancing. I expected him to protest or at least roll his eyes, but his response was, “Oh cool!”

Prior to the event, I rented the Wii Game “Just Dance”. If you’re not familiar with the game, you hold the Wii remote in one hand while an on-screen avatar performs dance moves to contemporary music. It’s like “Dance Dance Revolution” without the pad.  I figured I’d get a little practice while getting a bit of a workout.  30 minutes later, I was puffing and sweating from renditions of Katy Perry’s “California Gurls” and LMFAO’s “Party Rock Anthem”. Although my avatar looked pretty fly, occasionally I would catch a glimpse of my reflection in the television screen, which made me realize I actually looked less like J-Lo and more like one of the dancing hippos from Disney’s “Fantasia”. To top it all off, I think I strained my neck with my overenthusiastic fist pumps during “Party Rock Anthem”.  Ouch.

On the night of the event, I decided to forgo my tutu for a more sensible outfit of jeans, sweater and comfortable boots.  Sneakers cause too much drag, not to mention all the squeaking.  Before heading to the church, we popped into the James Library in Norwell for the opening of local artist Mary Lizotte’s exhibit of paintings.  (The exhibit runs all month so be sure to stop and check out her beautiful work).  As we were leaving the library, we noticed several cars parked at the First Parish church.  Apparently, we were not the only folks dancing on Friday night.  We subsequently discovered that First Parish Church hosts a dance night most Fridays from 8-11 p.m.  Filing that information for future reference, we headed for our own church, UCC Norwell.

The event was held at Friendship Home, located just behind the church.  As we gathered with about a dozen other couples, I was relieved to see that beer and wine were provided.  Although one person hypothesized that perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to drink before dancing, the general consensus was that it was the perfect time to have a glass of wine to loosen up.  Our instructors, Marie and Tom Osterland arrived and promptly set us to work.

Having settled on the Rhumba, my husband and I faced each other and tried to master the basic box step. This consisted of me stepping from side to side, then taking a step back, stepping from side to side again, then taking a step forward.  Simple? Not when you consider that my husband had to take a step forward while I was stepping back and then reverse that while I stepped forward.  And we had to time the steps “…quick, quick, slow…quick, quick, slow…”  I had a slightly easier time given all my years of aerobics and Zumba. My husband, whose feet are fleet only when dribbling a soccer ball, had a tougher time. Just as we were starting to get the steps, the instructors introduced a spin, which threw both of us for a loop. Still we persevered and I only managed to kick my husband’s shins a couple of times.

Several couples opted to change partners once they got the hang of the steps, but my husband gripped my hands and pleaded, “Don’t leave me...I can’t do this with anyone else.” Once we mastered (a relative term for sure) the Rhumba, our instructors asked if we’d like to try to swing, prompting my husband to whisper, “I didn’t think it was that kind of party.” Elbowing him in the gut, I watched the instructors smoothly execute a basic jitterbug step. Perhaps it was the steps or the wine working its magic, but for some reason the swing step came more easily to us both.  “I think I just heard something creak”, my husband muttered as we tried to rotate our single step around the room.

As many of us paused to catch our breaths, a member of our group asked for a bit of space and then proceeded to break out into a fancy, improvised tap step, complete with tap shoes. Looking like something from this year’s film “The Artist”, she swooped and tapped as the rest of us stood on the sidelines and cheered.

By evening’s end, my hips and feet were a bit sore, but my spirit was rejuvenated.  As my husband and I drove home, I realized that it doesn’t really take much to try something new and have an enjoyable evening together.

You just need to take that first step.