Just Dance

Ever since I can remember, I have loved to dance. My first solid memory of dancing is very specific. I was a very small girl, only 3 or 4 years old. I was with my Grandma Edlyn at the Rainbow, yes a bar, but it was during the day. She would go there and talk with her friends, play pool, and drop quarters in the juke box for me. They served food and I remember eating cheeseburgers and french fries with her there. I think that is probably where I first started to love fountain Coca Cola. Coke is great out of those soda guns they have, the syrup rich and the carbonation just right. Anyway, it was a hot summer day in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. It was too hot to play outside or sit in her house, so we went to the Rainbow for lunch and friends.

Grandma handed me a quarter and I walked over to the juke box on the other side of the room. It was dark and quiet. The place was pretty empty during the day. I reached up, on the tips of my toes and dropped the quarter in the slot. Magically the juke box came to life, bright colors and the whirring motor. I had to find the right buttons to push to play the songs I wanted. I could reach, just barely. There's the "A" button, all the way to the left, on the top row, and then go down to the numbers and count over, 1, 2, 3, 4. That's it A4. The rack of single records started to rotate, and the arm reached over and pulled it out. The needle hit the vinyl, and crackled to life. "Rain Drops Keep Falling on my Head" filled the silent air and I began to twirl and dance and sing along. "Just like the guy who's feet are too big for his bed, nothing seems to fit ..." I thought that line was really funny. I imagined Abraham Lincoln, in his top hat, trying to sleep in a twin bed.

I was alone in my little corner. Alone in the pure joy of music and air conditioning on a hot summer day. I was free - I was happy - I was completely unaware that there was a right way to dance or a correct way to sing. I was dancing and belting it out in complete oblivion. "Because I'm Free ... Nothin's worrying me".

I am sure that Grandma and her friends watched and listened, yet they did not say a word. I am grateful for that. The world of harsh criticism would come soon enough. In those moments I felt alive and free and full of wonder at the world. Music makes me happy.

My mother was always singing and dancing at home. I loved our home full of music. I loved my singing mommy. I remember asking her one day how she could make her voice sound just like all the people who sang on the radio. She laughed, and said, "I do?" I think she sings just like Karen Carpenter, only better.

On Saturday's we always watched American Bandstand with mom. Mom and Rik and I would dance with all the people on the show. They would play the top hits of the week, and sometimes there would be a live performance. It was so much fun. It was the heart of the 70's - Disco was the rage, and we could DO the hustle. I wasn't allowed to know that that meant, because it was not nice for children, but we could do the dance!

At slumber parties with my friends we would have dance competitions, ala Saturday Night Fever. One friend lived in a house with open stairs and landings on multiple levels. That was our favorite place to have these dance parties. It was almost like American Bandstand right there in Nancy's entry way.

We used to go to the skating rink as often as possible. That was almost like dancing. The music was loud and I could really skate. I had big pom poms on mine - white with blue tips, of course. I would skate everyday if I could. "I Like that Old Time Rock N Roll" I could roll and roll and roll. Just keep that music playing!

By the time high school rolled around we were all trying to learn to moon walk. Carol Cuellar could do it. She had this stretch of really smooth, painted concrete out in front of her house that was the perfect place to practice. If I could put on a pair of Keds I might be able to do it today! There were school dances and church dances. It was El Paso so there were Quincineras, and oh, the weddings! The wedding dances were the best! Live bands and records. "Where did you come from where did you go? Where did you come from, Cotton Eyed Joe?"

I started taking real dance classes in 9th grade. I wanted to be a dancer. While I was dancing to Neal Diamond at the Rainbow, the girls who were really good had been in ballet and tap class. What I lacked in traditional training and skill, I made up for in enthusiasm. I was just happy to be there.

By my Junior year I was taking a couple of dance classes a day, was on the flag team and was an alternate on the school dance team, Orchesis. I went to every dance I could, and literally danced every day of my life, except maybe on Sundays, sometimes.

When we lived in Utah, Carl was part of a band. They practiced in our basement a couple nights a week. I LOVED that! I loved our house full of music. I would be up in the kitchen, making dinner, and singing and dancing away. Everyone was downstairs and the music was so loud that no one but the kids had any idea of what I was up to. I loved our happy music house! The live performances with the band were awesome! Now I love it when Carl and Ryker play. I am not a musician, I am a musician lover. I marvel at the ability to produce music. Music is magical, it can stir me deep inside like nothing else.

I have no grand delusion that I am or ever will be a serious, professional, dancer. But I am a dancer, as in one who dances. I love to dance, and I love the way music makes me feel, deep in my bones, in my heart, in my soul. Music makes me happy, music makes me want to move. When I am dancing, "nothin's worrying me, because I'm free".