DANCING

When I was very young I remember dancing in the kitchen with my mother while The Beatles played on our stereo. I didn't care what I looked like when I danced, whether it was around the kitchen table or at a sweet sixteen. 

To this very day, though I have grown more reserved, I will occasionally break out into a groove that cannot be stopped for a good five minutes. First, it starts with my foot tapping. I'll lift up my arms and form fists with my hands, slowly shaking them in front of my torso to the beat of the music. Then, my whole body will begin to twist and turn, and soon, my hands are waving themselves in front of my face with my legs spread out further then my height. If it is gangsta rap, I will often act like I am from "da hood" and in the end embarrass myself and friends. 

Sometimes however, acting like a clown serves me well. To be frank, girls are more inclined to notice someone having a seizure on the dance floor then a more controled gentleman. 

One move that I actually consider myself relatively decent at is the classic "Robot." When I was in the eighth grade I would often go to parties with my friends, and the second a techno song came on, the crowd of dancers would part as I turned into a mechanical slave to the beat. I must say though, I was nowhere near as good as MJ. 

Recommended listening that relates to the subject matter of this post:

Hot Chip - Don't Dance