Wednesday, May 20, 2009

I wanna dance with somebody

I sit fairly still during Springsteen concerts. I clap and try to raise my hands on occasion, but I can't clap in rhythm for more than maybe 20 seconds, and I can't really raise my hands or move with losing control. 

And I don't want to lose control.

I have such little control over so much in my life; I can't willingly shed what little I do have.

This doesn't make me happy. A friend at the same concert posted some photos and explained away their poor quality by pointing out that they were taken "between the clapping, the fist pumping, the hand raising, the chest drumming, the pushing away the drunk, the good neighbor drumming, the pogo-ing, the thigh drumming, and the sometimes unrestrainable need to dance ..." I had no drunks to deal with and am not sure about "good neighbor drumming" but I felt the other stuff. I don't know what I am supposed to do with those urges, though, because pumping my fist is more than likely to upset my balance. The result is then me flopping over the side of my chair like a fish. Sure, I wouldn't fall all the way because of my seatbelt but the flopping itself is no fun, neither to my body nor my mind.

It isn't just Springsteen.

My favorite comic book is a rather melodramatic episode of Moon Knight (sorry Daredevil. Born Again is my favorite story.) In it Moon Knight is hurt rather badly by the Fly, and he has to start using a wheelchair. Bitter at first, he becomes more accepting, and sponsors a ballet. The lead dancer is killed by a deranged mutant while Moon Knight sits in his chair and watches. But the lead dancer does not go quietly, he dances. The bad mutant mocks him and he says if he is to die, it will be as he lived honoring life through dance. His death then provides Moon Knight with the intestinal fortitude to get out of his chair on a rainy night and don the cowl again. Man, I wish that is how it worked and all it took was courage. Still, that book fills me with chills.

I have only really danced once. (Don't tell my sister-in-law that I don't count waving my arms about at her wedding. I also don't count dances I had to do at one of my sister's weddings. I was a groomsman and danced with a bridesmaid and Mom.) No, none of those, but when I was in my second year of college, I went to a dance with a girl and we danced and danced and danced some more. Neither of us wanted to talk to each other, I guess. I don't even remember it well, but looking back it strikes me as so normal.

In Camelot, Arthur tells Guinevere that to escape when they're blue, the simple folk
dance a fiery dance
And whirl 'til they're completely uncontrolled
Soon the mind is blank
And all are in a trance
A vi'lent trance astounding to behold.
Oh God, i want that, but Springsteen must be doing something right because there are enough times where even without dancing my mind is in a trance.

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