I was on my way to my knitting circle when I happened past a small theater. As a patron of the arts, I feel it is my duty to support the houses that remind us of the good that great men like Shakespeare, Chekhov and Pinter contributed to the theatrical canon.
Imagine my shock and horror then when I looked in saw a troupe of women being taught moves called “Brush Yo’ Shoulder Off,” “Smack da Butt” and “Pump it.”
As a proud Oreo, I would never embarrass myself with a dance invented after, say, 1800. Sorry, Lindy Hop. And no, it’s not just because I have the kinesthetic intelligence of a puppy on waxed linoleum…it’s because I have an intense appreciation for the beauty, grace and social safeguards inherent in a well-performed waltz.
When using proper classic dance form, there are rules and standards. No room for dangerous personal expression that one would inflict upon another after doing a pop or a lock near someone else.
It’s just too short of a trip from a ghetto bounce step to a denim jacket embroidered with Looney Tunes characters to courting your love with phrases like: “It’s goin’ down on aisle 3, I’ll bag you like some groceries…I know you scared baby, they don’t know what we doin’…Let’s both get undressed right here, keep it up girl, then I swear, I’mma give to you non-stop, and I don’t care who’s watchin’.”
Mmmm, nothing like slant rhymes and vague threats of sexual assault in a public place to get a woman all melty.
Now, if you’re going to woo with music and poetry, I say, take a page from the brilliant wordsmiths on the other side of the pond. Like this:
“Cock and Hen on a Friday night,
Would you Adam and Eve the height of the white.
A Leo Sayer during the day,
Or to your Uncle Ted to delay the sway.
The Gay and Hearty is Harry Kewell,
Bob Hope, Rum and Coke rule till people drool.
Sausage and Mash run out, Jack and Jills turn straight,
Your Loaf just hurts and you’re Two and Eight. “
Doesn’t that sound better? You wanna talk about melty. Mmmm, Cockney slang. Traveled. Sophisticated. Delicious.