Lord of the Dance

As I mentioned last Thursday, Aff and I were planning to attend a Rock'n'roll night organised by PARSA (the ANU's Postgrad Association) that night. Well, we did, and in fine style I might add. Most interestingly, the night turned out to be a learning experience, on many levels. We learnt three dance moves - "the halo turn", "the push turn", and the slightly more advanced "figure eight". We learnt these moves in about 15 minutes, which one of the instructors, Betty, informed me is a lot faster than the usual three weeks it is normally taught in. Given these moves were not particularly difficult, I imagine the first three weeks at rock'n'roll dancing school are pretty dull. However, after seeing Betty (aged about 65 I'd say) and her partner (Geoff I think) take to the dance floor a bit later on with some of the most "athletic" moves you could imagine, I now realise things do get a little more tricky. While impressed with Betty and Geoff's moves, I found it a little hard to watch as Betty's skirt appeared to spend more time above waste level than below.

As I mentioned, the night was a learning experience, and while three dance moves were "mastered", the greater education was in Aff and my relationship. I don't want to draw too much from the experience, but it appears we have two major issues:

1. control issues: Aff has to lead! I found myself somewhat belittled in front of the keen eyes of our instructors when Aff would yank my arm into the air to initiate "the halo" turn. I, of course, would protest that this was my job, however, this did not seem to stop her then leading me into a push turn, without consultation. It is hard for a man to hold his head up high amongst his fellow dancing brethren when clearly he does not wear the pants on the dance floor.

2. trust issues: When I step on the dance floor, I would like to think I am a capable and responsible member of the dance floor community and therefore not in need of restraint. Sure, I occasionally break into small spurts of break dancing or moon walking, and yes ... on the very rarest of occasions, I may attempt some sort of interpretive dance - however, I do not see this as a danger to my fellow dancers. Aff, however, appears to be a little concerned that my dancing may cause injury to myself or others ... or perhaps even worse ... cause embarrassment. I am waiting on video evidence to resolve this issue.

In actual fact, Aff and I worked pretty well. I also managed to find a number of other willing dance partners on the night (I am still trying to recover from Pietro's athletic abilities), and so it was great fun. All the same, I don't think I am quite ready to enrol in rock'n'roll school just yet.