Shake it baby.


That’s what the cowboy always says in the movie as he points the pistol at the scoundrel’s feet.

That is, in my estimation, an unfortunate dance scenario. Another is the eighth grade school dance, and that nervous and awkward first go-around with freckle-faced Bobby.

But all in all, dance is a wondrous and beautiful thing. Of course, it comes in all shapes and sizes, from ballet to hoedown.

Foot tapping, even.

I’ve been reminded of dance quite a bit lately. And a few moments ago, I noticed that on this day in 1995, the actress Ginger Rogers died. She was 83 when she passed. Of course, Good Ginger was best known for the all the films she made with her dance partner Fred Astaire. There were 10 in all.

Fred Astaire died in 1987, as a matter of note. If there is a dance heaven, they may be performing together, again. But here on earth they didn’t like each other so much. You could have fooled me by the way they moved in each other’s glorious talent.

I think dance is truly that glorious thing. It is good for the body and soul. But by definition, it sounds a little cold and inert. Dance: to move rhythmically to music, typically following a set sequence of steps.

While I love to dance, that definition comes pretty close to summing up my ability for such. But we shouldn’t judge the dancer. It is expression. It is passion and spirit. It is the movement of life.

Granted. Every time I see someone with a unique dance style, I am thrust back to the episode of “Seinfeld” when Elaine gives dance a whole new meaning.

If you really want to conjure up some smiles, go to a public place with your earbuds in place and give it a high step. Twirl, whirl, sway and dip. Cut the rug and trip the light fantastic. Trust me. They’ll notice.

Most importantly. If you feel like dancing, dance. And don’t let anyone stop you.


“Hand in hand, on the edge of the sand, they danced by the light of the moon.” — Edward Lear


“Dance is the hidden language of the soul.” — Martha Graham


“Those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.” — Friedrich Nietzsche