Call The Cops, I Murdered The Dance Floor
In my opinion “Regret’s Only” invitations translate to of course you are attending and if you aren’t you are stupid. So here’s my “regrets only” invitation to learning how to stay young forever, have the best time of your life, and burn calories at the same time. It’s called a dance party and if you haven’t been to one (alone in your kitchen counts) then you need to #getwiththegets.
My mom taught my sister and I how to jitterbug when we were kids and that was all she wrote. In fact, whenever Pat Benetar’s, Bloodshot Eyes comes on I get an instant flashback to the summer of 1993, jitterbugging around my Aunt Trish’s backyard with my mom. In my family dancing became essential to our well being and one of my favorite past times.
One of the best living situations I’ve ever had was living in Bethesda with my best friend Tabetha. Everyone was pretty worried about it, especially Tabetha’s dad. You know what they say; living with people is a whole different ball game and no one wanted our new living situation to come between our friendship, I mean at that point we had 14 years invested. Well, that or they were concerned we might not make it through the year since we both like to have a good time (to put it mildly).
The first weekend we ever stayed at our house in Bethesda we didn’t have any furniture or heat (it was February in Maryland, heat was necessary) but we had a tv, a couple of logs to throw on the fire and The Grammy’s were on. A bottle of Captain Morgan later we were dancing around in our kitchen and made what has come to be known as the best dance party video of all time. We had so many dance parties in that kitchen and living room it makes me smile just thinking about it. The best part was walking downstairs the next morning only to find two brooms, aka our microphones, leaning against the wall in the living room. Now that was a sign of a good time.
Like Blanche from the movie Grease, “when I hear music I just can’t make my feet behave.” Last night the dance party bug struck again (and by again I mean for the 3rd time this week). Sitting in my kitchen I FaceTimed my BFF, ol’ Tabby Cat, to catch up on the day’s news and see what she had cooking for the weekend. I was pleasantly surprised when she answered the phone and was at a sports bar routing on The Wizards with our friend Cole. As she’s panning the crowd and I’m talking to she and Cole I hear AC/DC fire up in the background. Bingo! I immediately kicked off my flip flops and broke out the air guitar. So as I’m dancing around my kitchen with my dog judging the hell out of me I started thinking not about how terrible my dance moves were (#whitegirlproblems) but how much fun I was having.
Dancing and fun go hand in hand. I don’t know one person, unless they are dancing the Tango, that dances with a straight face. BTW, have you ever tried “straight face dancing”? Bet you can’t do it.
So tonight check out my playlist, Call The Cops, I Murdered The Dance Floor, on Spotify and break out your dancing shoes. Smile, have fun, show off your best moves, and make your own dance party video. And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance.