In early May I went to a contra dance weekend in a small town a few hours from Phoenix with my sister, her oldest son and a longtime friend of hers (Mike, Dave...whatever). Even though I only knew a handful of people at the weekend, it was like getting together for a family reunion. Why? Hard to explain.
Impossible to describe to someone who doesn't know what Contra Dancing is...this is not your elementary school square dance. In fact, I don't think it can be adequately portrayed. When lining up with my partner (Steve) for the next dance (he was probably in his 60s), we chatted about family. He said he had a daughter and son. I asked if they danced. He said they had both been dancing, but it wasn't their thing. His daughter said attending a dance was going to a place where a bunch of weird, old guys touched you. She's right, and this weekend was no exception.
There were sweaty, mostly older men who loved to give you a twirl and swing you around to the music. A handful of them were creepy (like Jesse), some wore skirts, others had you lost in their eyes (like Erik and Ned...I mean Brian). But I believe she didn't give it long enough to really understand what it can be all about, or maybe she just didn't grow up doing it like my sister and I did.
She clearly had never experienced a moment where everyone moves together and ends up just where they should at exactly the right moment. She didn't get a chance to feel the music in her bones. She certainly didn't share a genuine, having fun smile with her partner (or corner), a stranger just hours before she wouldn't have even noticed when passing on the street...who after the dance now has some unique bond with her, and she with him. She didn't laugh uncontrollably when her partner barked like a dog and howled like a wolf during the Birdy in the Cage square. She didn't get a chance to dance with Steve, who was smooth and pleasant, not creepy and weird (OK, I guess she probably did dance with her Dad, but that doesn't really count). She didn't stare in amazement when the caller took up his trombone and started playing with the band. Didn't ask afterwards if he was a part of the band, and exclaim, "That is so cool!" when he said yes. She didn't think how much better the world would be if everyone got to do a contra dance with everyone else in the world. Didn't get saved by her partner when she mistakenly accepted an invitation to the "Chaos" line. She hasn't ever gone to bed so exhausted and dreamt all night of dancing, only to wake up glad to do it all again. She hasn't heard exceptional musicians playing fiddles, oboes, guitars, pianos, trumpets, drums, diggerydoos, singing, and more, and more, and more...feeling blessed to be hearing more talent than she had ever heard before (or at least heard in a long time).
When my sister had a coworker of hers watch a video from a previous dance weekend, her friend responded, "That's it? That's what you were so excited about?" You have to do it...and I mean really do it (not just try it here or there), to get it. You learn to look past the crazy, silly, off-the-wall behavior of these often-time strangers, and feel the music, move together with a room full of enthusiasts and dance.
So Sis, when's the next one?
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