The Dancing Fool

STAYIN' ALIVE ... STAYIN' ALIVE ...

Oh, why couldn't I have married John Travolta, or at least starred with that dancing fool in Saturday Night Fever? Or better yet, James Brown or either of Sam and Dave. I could have shown them a move or two.

I recently attended John and Lisa's Christmas party. It was easily one of the loveliest holiday parties in the history of New York. There wasn't any dancing though, unless you count my husband's slow-motion swan dive towards the refreshment table. However, one of the reasons I liked the party so much, other than the obvious reasons of delicious food, champagne and company, is that it was a reunion with many friends whom I had met at John and Lisa's wedding earlier this year.

I was excited to see my tablemates from the wedding again. Usually I consider myself lucky if at a wedding my tablemates are tolerable, but these mates were so much fun. We had a blast and bonded instantly between dancing. Other guests that I had rubbed shoulders with while dancing at the wedding were at the party too. I recognized them immediately and when I reintroduced myself to them, they invariably said, "Oh yes, I remember you–the dancing fool."

Well... in my defense, I do love dancing, and weddings are about the only chance I get to dance these days, except when I am relieving various bodily and mental tensions that build up after hours of painting. I probably look like a loon, but this solo dancing is one of the best ways to release tightness and muscle pain caused by painting–but it has to be gravity-defying to be effective. I learned this as an undergraduate in a cartooning class at Parsons. Professor Stuart Leeds, a New Yorker cartoonist, had the whole class get up and dance around to loosen up our drawing hands and arms before we commenced drawing. Later, after hours of drawing, he had us dance to relax. It actually works and is a good way of staying in drawing shape.

I've had some fantasies about dancing over the years. When I was "the night person," so named by my doorman as I returned home in the early-morning hours after dancing 'til dawn every day, I always wished I would meet someone who would dance me to death (figuratively speaking, of course) by outdancing and outlasting me. (Remember that old movie, They Shoot Horses, Don't They? I would have won that marathon hooves down!). That never happened though. Instead, spent dancers avoided making eye contact with me after I had exhausted one partner and was on the prowl for another.

I finally figured out that I eventually will be danced to death (literally) when the Grim Reaper chooses me as his partner for my last dance. Yes, I will dance with Grimmy

'til the cows come home

'til the end of time...

termination...

mine.

Don't get me wrong, I don't want to leave this earth. I am having a really nice time here. But when I do, I know I will dance my way through eternity in heaven–which would be cool.

On the other hand, I hear the dancing in hell is hot!

Click on links to see some of my favorite dancing fools in action. (Sorry I do not have any footage of the biggest fool of all–me!)

Dance on,
Depingo