TASK #46: JUST DANCE
Those who dance are considered insane by those who cannot hear the music. George Carlin
This past Friday night my company held its annual Christmas Party, only now-a-days it’s called a Holiday Party, which is fine with me as long as there is food and an open bar.
Thankfully, there was both. The party was held in a large tent that was erected in the company parking lot. The door opened at 5pm and by 5:01pm there were 30 people at the bar, and everyone else was jockeying for position near the buffet, which featured the holy trinity of bar-b-qued meats: shredded pork, hunks of steak, and chicken; you could select mac ‘n cheese or potato salad or baked beans as a side, and they had some fresh rolls as well.
After I downed my first drink I snuck into the food line and scored some chicken and potato salad, then I settled into a seat, balanced my plate on my lap, and dove in.
Put on some music that moves you, crank it up, and dance like a fool… Get funky.
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There were three activities at the party:
1) at 5:30, a ping-pong tournament. I don’t play, but I cheer and make side bets–there’s a guy in accounting that wins every year, so it’s not much of a tournament, except every year our boss, who thinks he’s an athlete but isn’t, loses in the quarterfinals and throws his paddle across the room. This year went like clockwork, and by 6pm he was out of the running, and the paddle ended up in the parking lot.
2) Immediately following the crowning of the ping-pong champion, who as usual smirked at all of us and trudged back to his table of sad-ass finance people, came the Karaoke contest. This is always the highlight of the party. By the time it starts everyone has at LEAST three drinks in them, and the contestants have usually had even more, as they try to brace themselves for the ignomy of singing in front of their peers. What I love about the contest is that the most mesmerizing person is often someone that for 364 days a year is totally invisible, a non-entity, someone that you have to remind yourself that he/she even works with you. This year, a guy named Spencer, who is a faceless manager of a faceless department, lurched up the microphone and started rapping to some hip hop song by Drake of all people, and he danced as though he spends his weekends out clubbing, when I know for a fact that a big Saturday night for Spencer is going to Costco to see what a 50 pound bag of dog food was going to cost him. One of the managers, a guy who is an ex-marine, took off his shirt and sang a Lady GaGa song, but the topper was this IT guy who sang “Brown Sugar” by the Stones, and threw out his back trying to thrust out his hips.
3) Finally, after the last of the Karaoke entrants shuffled back the bar, the real fun started. The DJ threw on “White Wedding” and it was on! Almost the whole company, having by this time thrown all of their self respect out of the window, were on the dance floor, showing off our their best moves.
I held back. I watched, but then I noticed that my left shoulder had started to move, then both of my arms, and within a few minutes I was up and shaking my thing across the floor, dodging in and out of different groups of people, who cheered me on: Go Joe, Go Joe, Go Joe. And I let it loose…
I stayed on the dance floor for over an hour. I danced til I was dripping wet. I did every manner of dance, from The Shake to the Alligator, and everything in between. And it felt good. It felt great, actually. I could have stayed out there all night…
TASK
Put on some music that moves you, crank it up, and dance like a fool. If you got nobody to dance with, dance by yourself. Nobody can judge you. You’re a dancin machine.
Get funky.
Photo courtesy of the author