I love music and always have. One of my first memories is sitting in the back of my parent's car, my Dad driving, Mom staring out the window, and Double Dutch bus playing on the radio ' it's the double-dutch bus comin' down the street ' hells yes. I LOVED that song! And Beast of Burden, I remember that song playing on hot summer days as a young girl, and hearing it all over again with new understanding as a woman in my twenties, and then last week, singing it out in the car on the way to drop Lola off to school. ' kick me out, on the street, kick me out, with no shooooes on my feet '
My Grandma Elizabeth listened to classical music, and through her I evolved a passionate and enduring love for Mozart. I loved rock, rap, disco, pop, techno, alternative rock, I loved music, sweet music. And Then- I discovered dancing.
I had always known that I loved to dance. As pre-teens, my best friend Julie and I set up the boom-box on a wooden crate outside and had dance-off's in front of the boy we both liked. ( He picked her, he liked her, much to my irritation ) As a teenager I made up dance routines like every red-blooded American girl, and in the 6th grade, music and dance changed my life:I had my very own Napoleon Dynamite.
The end of 6th grade camp was near, and the talent show loomed large- everyone was excited. Not me. I had few friends and was picked on occasionally. I felt unliked and definitely unloved, in addition to stupid and ugly. Oh! The joys of middle school! A well liked girl had a dance routine set up with two other girls, but the day before the talent show, one of the girls had to drop out. I happened to be hanging out in the rehearsal room when this went down, and I happened to offer my services. Dance? Dance, I said. So we practised, and the beat was on. I went to bed, sick with fear.
The next evening, throngs of 6th graders milled in the camp auditorium, took their seats, and watched the acts, one by one. I waited with the other two girls, tights and leotards on, makeup in place, hoping not to vomit or pass out before I finished. The lights dimmed. We skittered out onto stage, froze in place. The lights bloomed, hot and fierce, and the music rang out loud and clear: You Must Be My Lucky Star, Cuz You Shine On Me Wherever You Are... Madonna at the height of her powers. I rose my arms, and danced the hell out of that song. I could feel the energy of the room shift, as if I had magical powers, and slowly all the faces in the audience turned toward me, following me across the floor, teachers and students. I worked it, I moved, I had rhythm, I didn't vomit. Or faint. No, instead I rocked. It was the greatest moment of my life! The music stopped, and applause broke out, thunderous and staggering, beautiful to my ears.
I leapt off stage and was surrounded with faces and hands, shaking patting poking clapping, ' Oh my God you were like, awesome! ' ( This was the 80's. I live in California. ) Boys were looking at me with new eyes. I sensed I had tapped into some kind of sexual, kenetic power.
I never looked back.
I went dancing every weekend for years. During that time I was asked to go home with an entire bachelor party of men and be their private dancer, I was asked to work for Budweiser beer as a dancing rep. in clubs, I was asked to be in a highly shady ' music video ', proposed marriage to a number of times, called a bitch countless times when I refused to grind with some drunk guy ( thank you, endlessly, Mr. Curry, for each and every time you faced some Marine twice your size, drunk, and pissed off at me ), and groped more than any young lady who is not a Amsterdam Red Light Worker should ever be. Not one of those moments came close to giving me the spectacular rush of joy that my 6th grade camp dance off did.
( I was also in the NSync video ' Dirty Pop ' right before I became pregnant with Lola. That was pretty cool, I have to admit. If you watch it, I'm the one in the cowboy hat and blonde braids next to Justin.)
