Dance Like Nobody’s Watching

A couple nights ago, my husband and I lucked into the last two seats in a tribute to songwriter Carole King. I had seen Carole perform at the Ryman a few years earlier, and I’ve seen Beautiful on stage too. But I think I enjoyed the tribute by Suzanne O’ Davis almost as much, or possibly more.

She covered such a wealth of Carole’s songs, and the number of hit songs Carole has written is truly staggering. Suzanne focused on the album Tapestry, but she also brought back wonderful memories of songs by the Monkees and Herman’s Hermits, among so many others.

“We’re the youngest people here,” my husband said.

I looked around. We were not, I’m sure, but there were plenty of blue hairs, as my director from community theater used to refer to the typical matinee attendees.

When the allotted time approached an end, more than a few of the older guests hobbled out. “Hey, I’m still performing,” Suzanne called after them, and everyone chuckled.

The rest of us were glad we stayed. When she closed with “I feel the earth move under my feet,” a lot of the crowd rose to their calloused feet to dance.

The rhythm almost pulled me to mine, and I thought back to my early childhood. My parents occasionally took me to a hamburger joint with a jukebox. When someone chose a snappy number, I couldn’t resist. “Watch my 7-up,” I’d order, jumping from my chair to spin, twist, and twirl.

At that age, I didn’t care that no one else was dancing, or wonder if people were laughing at me or with me. I just moved to the beat with joy.

Later, though, I became aware of issues like coordination and dance steps. I had one ballet lesson. In my memory, everyone else knew what to do when the instructor spoke in a foreign language, or so it sounded to me. I felt so foolish and lost that I never returned for my second lesson.

Another time, my parents allowed me to join in a square dance. I’d seen the adults on many occasions swinging their partners and doing a do-si-do, but I had not really paid attention to the calls or the moves. It looked so effortless when they did it. Once again, I felt foolish and lost.At the Carole King tribute, I nudged my husband. “Want to dance?”

He looked at me without budging. I knew he wasn’t feeling well. I also knew that, even if he had been, it’s not in his nature to dance. But why didn’t I?

Remember Elaine’s dance moves in Seinfeld? Perhaps I feared I might dance like Elaine. So what if I did?

Next time I will dance.