A much needed break, or how I learned to dance

Friday night at the Little Fox Theatre was sheer bliss. That is, it was sheer bliss after I got over the anxiety attached to being responsible for the turnout success of Notorious, the 80s band that I'm addicted to seeing.

So truth be told, I really wasn't really responsible for the turn-out, but I was feeling accountable because I supposedly told them that I can get hundreds of moms to come out and pack the venue. Father in Chief says that I promised this crowd to the band during one encounter in San Francisco a couple of months ago after I sucked down two Long Island Ice Teas.

Anyway, they were in Redwood City, per my many requests, and I wanted it to be a success. While I did not produce a flock of 100 moms, I did manage to get 13 dancing fans into the club and onto the dance floor within a few bars of the first song. Our enthusiasm, along with the other 75 enthusiast attendees made the show a success, in my opinion. Pictures will soon be available on the band's web site, which I will post here.

Father in Chief had to sit out much of the second set after hurting his back during some aerobic dance moves.

As my shoes slid across the floor, I wondered where I learned to dance. My mother is a belly dance instructor and I definitely know how to shimmy my shoulders and hips, which I probably learned by osmosis. But mostly I learned how to dance by watching Molly Ringwald in the 1985, brat-pack hit The Breakfast Club. Arms flailing. Head bobbing. Bouncing and shifting side to side.

It's seems to have served me well during the years. I doubt I will ever really dance much differently than I dance now. That worries me a bit. When I was back east, I was out one night with my Dad. There was live music, and a woman was getting down on the dance floor, literally and figuratively. Knees bent. Arms stiff. Almost convulsions. It was not a pretty sight. I worry that this will be me in 20 years (yes, I plan to still be out there shaking my groove thing--probably to 80s music). I don't think I'll look like this woman, somehow morphing my dance into her dance. But rather, I imagine that my dance will be dated, much in the same way this woman's dance moves were dated.

As long as were out there having fun.