on dancing and non-dancing

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Set 27 2009, 19:16

Last night at the Dear and the Headlights (and Rajiv Patel and Kinch) concert at my university, the bands were nearly upstaged by the lunatic art and theater majors who decided to have an epilepsy-inspired dance party all night long.

On one hand, the craziness, attention-whoring and the blocking-my-view-you-jerks irritated me, but on the other, I sort of enjoyed the spectacle and I'm not really against other people having fun, unless it involves a certain degree of purposeful mental retardation.

But where does that leave us dorks who are too lame to move? Or as I prefer to call it, those of us who "have shame." As liberal and unhinged as my brain may be, my body employs a strategy of dead-serious ironic distance (frankly it has to.) For example, I'd sooner eat paint than go to a party that doesn't involve less than 10 people and video games or movies. Watching these people felt like watching a tenuous metaphor for my whole experience in this off-kilter universe: you're having fun in your own little way, and suddenly it feels illegitimatized by the sheer magnitude of everyone else's activity. You'd participate too, except you don't enjoy it, and you'd try to keep it from bothering you, except you are human and are subject to inexplicable frustrations.

I have to wonder if they were even paying attention to the music, or if they just needed an excuse to act wild with all eyes on them, but I guess I shouldn't presume to know or understand what others are thinking and feeling. I do anyway because I need a justification for being annoyed, but regardless, the question alone certainly doesn't help you feel very positive towards them.

Anyway, so how does one manage dancing when one is not a dancer (or anything else, for that matter)? I suppose the best you can do is to quietly continue harboring your secret conflicting loathing and envy and have fun despite yourself.

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