A Brief History of Dance

Simma down, you. It's International Dance Day. So please don't make a citizen's arrest when you see the SJG in the midst of my Hot! Hot! Hora! in the produce section of Gelson's. It's just how I roll, or should I say, grapevine, on this celebratory day I didn't know existed until Social Media informed me it's been around while. Not as long as the SJG's been around. But International Dance Day is a thing. So it seems fitting to regale you with my brief dance history, whether you're interested or not. At eight, I wanted to be a ballerina. But I didn't have the long legs. Plus, all that spinning made me dizzy. Adios ballet. As a pre-teen, praise Moses, I found Modern Dance.

Or Modern Dance found me. Either way, I dug it, sincerely. The fact that I got to go barefoot, too, made me so happy. I kept dancing in a thoroughly modern way all through college. One time, I found myself dancing all over UCLA like a lunatic. Exhibitionist? How dare you. I kept my leotard on. In emerging adulthood, a prolonged phase I'm not quite done with, I found jazz. Or jazz found me. And it wouldn't let me go. I kept doing it. I'm still doing it.

It's Fosse! Fosse! Fosse! for the SJG. So Happy International Dance Day, bitches. Get out there and move. Or stay home and dance like nobody's watching. Even though, chances are, they are watching and they're about to call the authorities. Keep dancing, anyway. Who gives an eff? I'll be right there with you, flashing the jazz hands and shaking the booty.