I Wanna Dance with Somebody
When I was 24, I danced every Thursday night like it was going to church. But I didnât stop there. Looking for every possible opportunity in the relatively small town of Eugene, my body pulsed like the vibrations of furiously picked bass strings several nights a week. My life was a perfect storm of unattached women, unattached men, charming DJâs, functional sleep depravation, and little responsibility.Â
Let me be clear, that is not a life I want back. Though it was fun to be as deep in a âsceneâ as I have ever been, and will ever be, looking back I was avoiding my innate introversion while reaching for extroverted tendencies. A condition known to wreak the most havoc in 20-somethings... Sadly, I became a somewhat diluted, albeit probably more fun, version of myself. At 30, Iâve embraced my introverted nature, am in a loving, committed relationship and surrounded by friends, old and new, who Iâm thankful to have as part of my life in Portland. But there is something missing - throwing down to some dancey jams in a crowded pumped up room!!!Â
Am I too out of shape and old to dance for four consecutive hours like I used to? Probably. My average bedtime is at 9 p.m. and my hip injury worsens yearly. Do I want to dance to remixed music likely to be played in a European dance club? Yes. And donât tell me some Ellie Goulding wouldnât make you join me on the dance floor. Will I be able to ârefuelâ the way I did when I was 24? Probably not...? Are those real reasons not to go dancing? No! So whatâs holding me back? Three things:Â
I donât know of anywhere where I can hear Whitney Houston, The Knife, Years and Years, and Taylor Swift (the new stuff obvi... letâs be serious) in the same night. Â And yet tell me you wouldnât go to a dance party where these artists were setting precedent. Everyoneâs listening to this stuff. I think. Itâs almost taboo to admit in Portland hence my uncertainty. I donât want to believe that people here are music snob fun suckers who refuse to perceptibly sway or bounce during live shows, but if it ainât so then where are all of them? No, really! Tell me!
With whom!?! (Iâm sure thereâs a very obvious correlation between my opportunities to throw down and the frequency with which I correctly use âwhomâ in a sentence)
When my partner and I first started dating, I had trouble keeping up with him. The first time we went dancing together, he ended up shimmying up a drain pipe to hang out on the top of the Holocene building. No exaggeration. Weâve moved furniture around in our living room to have two person dance parties to Future Islands. We drove our Toyota, Matrix hatchback in circles through Hawthorne neighborhood in the middle of the night with Kenny Loggins blaring through the speakers while I bounced around in my seat with unbridled glee. But where have all the dancers gone? This is rhetorical as I know where they have gone - into adulthood. While going out dancing used to be the thing that connected us despite our professional and personal pursuits, now its the wilting helium balloon loosely tethered to the taken for granted railing. Guilty! Guilty as charged! Plus, the people who didnât really like it but put up with it have tapped out for good. If I could turn back time... Â
Above gif strangely perfect with Beyonceâs âPartitionâ
Itâs no coincidence Iâm writing this over Spring Break. Teaching makes me tired. So tired. I have so much input - Ms. Fitz, I need...! Ms. Fitz, can I...! Ms. Fitz, he wonât stop...! -  I donât even want ear candy type input. Iâm too tired to go out on a Friday, and if I go out on a Saturday, I usually pay for it when I canât deal with 6th graders on Monday. The cycle continues. Maybe teaching the more subdued teenage variety of student would improve my whining attitude towards going out and doing something I apparently LOVE DOING!Â
Taylor Swifts or 6th graders? Depends on the week...
If youâve read this far, have had a twinge of nostalgia, been humored slightly, and also miss recklessly throwing yourself around to the beat of your shameless love for great pop music, know that you are not alone, my friend. Maybe weâll grow out of it.Â
