Feb 2, 2024 3 min read

By Joe Manning

Of all the absurd, irrational, inexplicable things that we humans do to amuse ourselves, such as dressing as the opposite sex for no apparent reason, playing golf, wearing plaid, or wearing plaid while playing golf, none is more bizarre than dancing.

I formed this opinion while revisiting the classic “Seinfeld” episode in which Elaine “dances” at an office party in an only slightly exaggerated example of what most of us look like when we attend wedding receptions trying to emulate Ben Vereen in his heyday.

Dance is as old as the human race, with a direct line from Salome to Chubby Checker. The Charleston, Swing, the Twist – each generation creates and popularizes its own version of gyrating to music that only a tiny fraction of the population is any good at.

My generation came of age during the “Saturday Night Fever” craze, when everyone was expected to dance like John Travolta but looked more like Pee Wee Herman. It was during this period that I read Norman Mailer’s novel “Tough Guys Don’t Dance,” which gave me a clever, albeit inaccurate excuse to defer whenever invited to shake my booty.

There is also a clear distinction between the sexes where dance is concerned. Women in general are much better dancers than men are. My wife is always one of the most popular guests at events when the DJ spins the Electric Slide. I, on the other hand, have tried to suppress video of myself at weddings where, after much libation, I thought I looked like one of the male dancers in a Janet Jackson video, but really looked like someone trying to stand up in a canoe while fighting off angry bees. I haven’t received so many puzzled stares since the time I was in a bar and played “MacArthur Park” on the jukebox.

Writing in December in The New York Times, Melissa Kirsch encouraged people to dance more just to move their bodies for “something beyond mere practicality” and just for the fun of letting go and expressing ourselves physically, “outside of the limited vernacular we normally afford ourselves.” Kirsch suggests that “we don’t dance as much as we can or want to for fear of looking foolish” and that the greeting card exhortation, “dance like no one’s watching” caught on for a reason.

Perhaps she’s right, the world does need more fun and frivolity, and maybe more dancing is just the thing we need. Maybe more people should be encouraged to “dance like no one’s watching.”

It won’t be me tripping the light fantastic, however. I’ve already worn plaid while playing golf so I’ve done my part to amuse my fellow humans.

Joe Manning is a former Washington city councilman.